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CORNELL STUDIES IN ENGLISH 

EDITED BY 

JOSEPH QUINCY ADAMS 

CLARK SUTHERLAND NORTHUP 

MARTIN WRIGHT SAMPSON 




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BEN JONSON 

Prefixed to The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, 1640, and Ben: Jonson's 
Execration against Vulcan, 1640. From an early state of the engraving in the 
library of Mr. Beverly Chew, and here reproduced by permission. 



THE 

JONSON ALLUSION-BOOK 

A COLLECTION OF ALLUSIONS TO 
BEN JONSON FROM 1597 TO 1700 



BY 

JESSE FRANKLIN BRADLEY, Ph.D. 

Assistant Professor of English in the University of Louisville 
AND 

JOSEPH QUINCY ADAMS, Ph.D., Litt.D, 

Professor of English in Cornell University 




NEW HAVEN: YALE UNIVERSITY PRESS 

LONDON: HUMPHREY MILFORD 

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS 

MDCCCCXXII 



'V'l-V V"*-- v vvtt,-Vv--CMJf'**-'~' 



^ 






^U^^ 




Copyright, 1922 
By Yale University Press 



First Published in August 1922 



©C|.ABaS!J17 



MO 



PREFACE 

This volume proposes to do for Jonson what The Shakespeare 
Allusion-Book does for Shakespeare. While primarily intended 
to set forth the materials, within the limits specified, relating 
to Jonson's career as a man of letters, and to disclose the estimates 
of his genius as expressed by his contemporaries and immediate 
successors, it will also incidentally supply information on a 
variety of subjects connected with the literature of the time. 
For example, it will be of service as a partial allusion-book to 
many poets of the Elizabethan and Jacobean ages; and it will 
be of no little value as a body of seventeenth-century dramatic 
criticism. 

The editors are not vain enough to suppose that they have been 
able to collect all the important references to Jonson; for only 
by the co-operation of many scholars, with labor extending over 
a long period of years, could a work of this nature be made even 
approximately complete. In his Preface to The Shakespeare 
Allusion-Book, the editor states: "These volumes were not made 
in a day. Thirty years have passed in their compilation, and the 
thousands of books from which their contents have been drawn 
stretch over three hundred years. Many willing hands, too, have 
lent assistance. Antiquarians, scholars, and friendly readers 
have all most kindly helped." Yet, in spite of the prolonged and 
painstaking effort of so many collaborators, several supplements 
to the volumes have appeared, and numerous allusions to Shake- 
speare remain still ungathered. The editors of The Jonson Allu- 
sion-Book have worked without assistance of any kind, and they 
can only hope that they have made a fair beginning. 

A few biographical documents have been included when these 
relate to the poet's literary career; doubtful allusions, unless 



vi PREFACE 

supported by reasonable evidence, have been excluded; and 
mere indications of Jonson's influence upon others, in the form of 
imitation or quotation, have, as a rule, been omitted. More- 
over, in the period following the Restoration the editors have 
had to exercise a certain discretion in condensing allusions and 
passing over those possessing little or no significance. Most of 
these, however, have been collected, and, if the opportunity 
offers, may later be published by way of a supplement. Perhaps 
it should be added that the numerous jingling rhymes printed by 
W. R. Chetwood in his Memoirs of the Life and Writings of Ben 
Jonson, 1756, have been entirely ignored; Chetwood cites no 
authority for them, and they seem to be crude fabrications of 
his own Muse. 

Mr. Bradley originally undertook the task of gathering these 
allusions in the preparation of a doctoral dissertation at Cornell 
University, and to him belongs the major credit of collecting and 
transcribing the passages. Later Mr. Adams became associated 
with him in the labor, and assumed specifically the responsibility 
of editing the material for the reader. 

It has not always been easy to fix the dates of the passages 
quoted, or to identify the authors; and in dealing with such a 
mass of detail, it has doubtless been impossible to escape errors. 
For all such defects the editors crave the indulgence of scholars. 



THE JONSON ALLUSION-BOOK 



The Privy Council, 1597. 

A letter to Richard Topclyfe, Thomas Fowler, and Richard 
Skevington, esquires, Doctour Fletcher and Mr. Wilbraham. 

Uppon informacion given us of a lewd plaie [The Isle of Dogs] 
that was plaied in one of the plaiehowses on the Bancke Side, 
contanynge very seditious and sclaiiderous matter, wee caused 
some of the players [Robert Shaw, Gabriel Spencer, and Ben 
Jonson] to be apprehended and comytted to pryson, whereof 
one of them [Ben Jonson] was not only an actor but a maker of 
parte of the said plaie. For as moche as yt ys thought meete 
that the rest of the players or actors in that matter shalbe 
apprehended to receave soche punyshment as theire leude and 
mutynous behavior doth deserve, these shalbe therefore to require 
you to examine those of the plaiers that are comytted, whose 
names are knowne to you, Mr. Topclyfe, what ys become of the 
rest of theire fellowes that either had theire partes in the devys-, 
inge of that sedytious matter or that were actors or plaiers in the 
same, what copies they have given forth of the said playe and to 
whome, and soche other pointes as you shall thincke meete to be 
demaunded of them, wherein you shall require them to deale 
trulie as they will looke to receave anie favour. Wee praie you 
also to peruse soch papers as were fownde in Nash his lodgings, 
which Ferrys, a Messenger of the Chamber, shall delyver unto 
you, and to certyfie us th'examynacions you take. 

[Acts of the Privy Council 1597, New Series, ed. J. R. Dasent, 1890 
— , xxvii, 338. The letter was written in the latter half of July, 
and relates to the performance of The Isle of Dogs by the Pem- 
broke's Company at the Swan. For a full discussion of this episode 
see Joseph Q. Adams, Shakespearean Playhouses, pp. 170-75; 154- 
55-] 

Philip Henslowe, 1597. 
Ki of Bengemenes Johnsones 

Share as followeth 1597 
R. the 28 of July 1597 iijMx^ 



iiij^^ 



2 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

lent unto Bengemen Johnson player the 28 of July 

1597 in Redey mony the some of fower poundes to 

be payd yt agayne when so ever ether I or any for 

me shall demande yt I saye 

wittnes E Alleyn & John Synger 

[Henslowe's Diary, ed. W. W. Greg, 1904, pp. 47, 200. The meaning 
of the first passage is not clear; the second passage suggests the 
interpretation that when Jonson was in trouble over The Isle of 
Dogs he appHed to Henslowe for aid.] 

The Privy Council, 1597. 

A warrant to the keeper of the Marshalsea to release Gabriell 
Spencer and Robert Shaa, stage-players, out of prison, who were 
of kit comitted to his custodie. The like warrant for the releasing 
of Benjamine Johnson. 

[Acts of the Privy Council 1597, New Series, ed. J. R. Dasent, 1904, 
xxviii, 33.] 

The Northumberland Manuscripts, about 1597-8. 

[Table of Contents.] 
* * * * 

Rychard the second 

Rychard the third 

Asmund and Cornelia 

He of Doges frmn* [fragment] by Thomas Nashe & inferior 

plaier[s]. 

[Northumberland Manuscripts: Collotype Facsimile and Type Transcript 
of an Elizabethan Manuscript preserved at Alnwick Castle, North- 
iwiberland, ed. F. J. Burgoyne, 1904.] 

Philip Henslowe, 1597-98. 

lent unto Bengemen Johnsone the [2] 3 of desembr ' 
1597 upon a Bocke w^*^ he was to writte for us 
befor crysmas next after the date herof w*^*^ he J-xx' 
showed the plotte unto the company J saye 
lente in Redy money unto hime the some of . . . . 

lent unto Bengemen Johnson the 3 of desembr^ 
1597 upon a boocke w"^ he showed the plotte unto 

r XX ^ 

the company w'''' he promysed to dd unto the j 
company at cryssmas next the some of 



TO BEN JONSON 

lent Bengemyne Johnson the 5 of Jenewary 1597"! 
J Redy mony the some of J 



v= 



lent unto the company the 18 of aguste 1598 to~ 
bye a Boocke called hoote anger sone cowld of 
m"" porter m'' cheattell & bengemen Johnson in ) 
fulle payment the some of 



li 



h'j 



Lent unto Robart shawe & Jewbey the 23 of 
Octobr 1598 to lend unto m'' Chapmane one his 
playe boocke & ij ectes of a tragedie of bengemens 

plotte the some of 

[Henslowe's Diary, ed. W. W. Greg, 1904, pp. 70, 82, 200, 93, 98.] 

Francis Meres, 1598. 

... So these are our best for Tragedie, The Lorde Buckhurst, 
Doctor Leg of Cambridge, Doctor Edes of Oxford, Master 
Edward Ferris, the author of the Mirror for Magistrates, Marlow, 
Peele, Watson, Kid, Shakespeare, Drayton, Chapman, Decker, 
and Beniamin lohnson. 
[Palladis Tamia, 1598.] 

Middlesex Sessions' Rolls, 1598. 

22 September, 40 Elizabeth. — True Bill against Benjamin 
Johnson, late of London, yoman, for killing Gabriel Spencer in 
the fields of Shorediche. 

* * * * 

Cogn' Indictament petit librum legit vt Cl'iais sign' cum I'r'a T 
Et delr juxta formam statuf, &'c. 

Middss: — Juratores pro D'na Regina p'ntant q'' Benjaminus 
Johnson nup' de London yoman vicesimo secundo die Septembris 
Anno regni d'n'e n'r'e Elizabethe Dei gra' Anglie Franc' et 
Hib' nie Regine fidei defensor', &c., quadragesimo vi & armis, &c. 
In et sup' quendam Gabrielem Spencer in pace Dei&d'c'e d'n'e 
Regine apud Shordiche in Com' Midd' pred' in Campis ib'm 
existen insultu' fecit Et eund'm Gabrielem cum quodam gladio 
de ferro et calibe vocat* a Rapiour precii iiis. quem in manu sua 
dextra adtunc & ibi'm h'uit et tenuit extract' felonice ac voluntar' 



4 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

percussit & pupugit Dans eidem Gabrieli Spencer adtunc & ib'm 
cu' gladio pred' in et sup' dextern' latus ip'ius Gabrielis unam 
plagam mortalem p'funditat' sex pollic' & latidud' unius pollicis 
de qua quidem plaga mortali id'm Gabriel Spencer apud Shordiche 
pred' in pred'c'o Com' Midd' in Campis pred'c'is adtunc & jb'm 
instant' obiit Et sic Jur' pred'c'i dicunt sup' Sacr'm suu' q*^ 
prefat' Benjaminus Johnson pred'c'm Gabrielem Spencer apud 
Shorediche pred'in pred'c'o Com' Midd' & in Campis predic'is 
[die & anno] predic'is felonice et voluntar' interfecit & occidit 
contra pacem D'c'e D'n'e Regine, &c. 

Translatio7i: 

He confesses the i?idictment, asks for the book, reads like a clerk, 
is marked with the letter T, and is delivered according to the 
statute, &c. 

Middlesex: — The jurors for the Lady the Queen present, that 
Benjamin Johnson, late of London, yeoman, on the 22nd day of 
September, in the fortieth year of the reign of our Lady Elizabeth, 
by God's grace Queen of England, France, and Ireland, Defender 
of the Faith, &., with force and arms, &c., made an attack 
against and upon a certain Gabriel Spencer, being in God's and 
the said Lady the Queen's peace, at Shordiche in the aforesaid 
county of Middlesex, in the Fields there, and with a certain 
sword of iron and steel called a Rapiour, of the price of three 
shillings, which he then and there had and held drawn in his 
right hand, feloniously and wilfully beat and struck the same 
Gabriel, giving then and there to the same Gabriel Spencer with 
the aforesaid sword a mortal wound of the depth of six inches 
and of the breadth of one inch, in and upon the right side of the 
same Gabriel, of which mortal blow the same Gabriel Spencer 
at Shordiche aforesaid, in the aforesaid county, in the aforesaid 
Fields, then and there died instantly. And thus the aforesaid 
jurors say upon their oath, that the aforesaid Benjamin Johnson, 
at Shordiche aforesaid, in the aforesaid county of Middlesex, 
and in the aforesaid Fields, in the year and day aforesaid, 
feloniously and wilfully killed and slew the aforesaid Gabriel 
Spencer, against the peace of the said Lady the Queen, &c. 

[Middlesex Sessions' Rolls, ed. J. C. Jeaffreson, 1886-92, i, 249, xxxviii.] 



TO BEN JONSON 5 

Philip Henslowe, 1598, 

Letter to Edward Alleyn, September 26, 13Q8. 
... J will teall you some [news] but yt is for me harcle & 
heavey sence you weare w*'' me J haue loste one of my company 
w'^'' hurteth me greatley that is gabrell for he is slayen in hogesden 
[Hoxton] fylldes by the hands of benge[men] Jonson bricklayer 
therfore J wold fayne haue alittell of you"" cownsell yf J cowld 
. . . you'" assured frend 

to my power 

Phillippe Henlowe 
[Henslowe Papers, ed. W. VV. Greg, 1907, p. 47.] 

Thomas Nashe, 1599. 

The straunge turning of the He of Dogs fro a commedie to a 
tragedie two summers past, with the troublesome stir which 
hapned aboute it, is a generall rumour that hath filled all England. 
[In a marginal gloss Nashe says:] I hauing begun but the induc- 
tion and first act of it, the other foure acts without my consent, 
or the least guesse of my drift, or scope, by the players were 
supplied, which bred both their trouble and mine to. 

[Lenten Stiiffe, 1599; The Works of Thomas Nashe, ed. R. B. McKerrow, 
1905, iii, 153-54. For Jonson's share in The Isle of Dogs see the 
entries under the year 1597.] 

Philip Henslowe, 1599. 

Lent unto w^'" Borne alles birde the 10 of aguste 1599 
to Lend unto bengemyne Johnsone & thomas 
deckers in earneste of ther boock w*^^ they [are] a 
writtenge called pagge of p[le]m°*^ the some 

Lent unto Thomas down ton the 3 of Sep*^"''"" 1599 
to lend unto Thomas deckers Bengemen Johnson 
hary chettell & other Jentellman in earneste of a 
playe calle Robart the second kinge of scottes 
tragedie the some of 

Lent unto w™ Borne the 27 of Setmbr 1599 to lend 1 
unto Bengemen Johnsone in earneste of a Booke ^xx 

called the scottes tragedie the some of J 

[Henslowe' s Diary, ed. W. W. Greg, 1904, i, no, in, 112.] 



rxxxx^ 



xxxx^ 



6 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Weever, 1599. 

Ad lo: Marston, & Ben: I oh n son. 
Marston, thy Muse enharbours Horace vaine, 
Then some Augustus give thee Horace merit. 
And thine embuskin'd lohnson doth retaine 
So rich a stile, and wondrous gallant spirit; 
That if to praise your Muses I desired, 
My Muse would muse. Such wittes must be admired. 

[Epigrammes in the Oldest Cut and Newest Fashion, ed. R. B. IVIcKerrow, 
191 1, p. 96.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1600. 

8 Aprilis 

William holme 

Entred for his copie under the handes of master Harsnet. 
and master Wyndet warden. A Com i call Satyr e of 
euery man out of his humour vj'' 

4. Augusti 
As you like yt / 2l booke 
Henry the ffift / a booke 

Euery man in his humour / a booke )■ to be staied 

The commedie of 'muche A doo about nothing' / a 
booke 

14. Augusti 
Master Burby 
Walter Burre 

Entred for yeir [their] copie under the handes of master 
Pasvill [i.e. Pasfeild] and ye Wardens, a booke 

called Euery man in his humour vj'^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 159, 37, 169.] 

Title-pages, 1600. 

The Comicall Satyre of Every Man out of his Humor. As it 
was first composed by the Author B. I. Containing more than 
hath been publikely Spoken or Acted. With the severall 
Character of every Person. [With an oblong printer's ornament 
of two winged satyr-like figures supporting a vase.] London, 
Printed for William Holme . . . 1600. 



TO BEN JQNSON 7 

[Second edition, with same wording, but with Peter Short's 
device, and different signatures and setting of type.] London, 
Printed for William Holme . . . 1600. 

[Third edition, with same wording.] London, Printed for 
Nicholas Linge, 1600. 

John Bodenham, 1600. 

To the Reader. 
. . . Now that euery one may be fully satisfied concerning 
this Garden, that no man doth assume to him-selfe the praise 
thereof, or can arrogate to his owne deseruing those things which 
haue been deriued from so many rare and ingenious spirits; I 
haue set down both how, whence, and where these flowres had 
their first springing, till thus they were drawne togither into the 
Muses Garden, that euery ground may challenge his owne, each 
plant his particular, and no one be iniuried in the iustice of his 
merit . . . out of ... . 

Thomas, Earle of Surrey. 

The Lord Marques se of Winchester . 

Mary, Countesse of Pemhrooke. 

Sir Philip Sidney. 

From Poems and workes of these noble personages, extant. 

Edward, Earle of Oxenford. 

Ferdinando, Earle of Derby. 

Sir Walter Raleigh. 

Sir Edward Dyer. 

Fulke Greuile, Esquier. 

Sir John Harrington. 
From diuers essayes of their Poetrie; some extant among other 
Honourable personages writings ; some from priuate labours and 
translations. 

Edmund Spencer. 

Henry Constable, Esquier. 

Samuell Daniell. 

Thomas Lodge, Doctor of Physicke. 

Thomas Watson. 



8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Michaell Drayton. 

John Dailies. 

Thomas Hudson. 

Henrie Locke, Esquier. 

John Marstone. 

Christopher Marlow. 

Beniamin Johnson. 

William Shakspeare. 

Thomas Churchyard, Esquier. 

Thomas Nash. 

Thomas Kidde. 

George Peele. 

Robert Greene. 

Josuah Syluester. 

Nicholas Breton. 

Geriiase Markham. 

Thomas Storer. 

Robert Wilmot. 

Christopher Middleton. 

Ri'chard Barnefield. 
These being Moderne and extant Poets, that ha\e hu'd 
togither; from many of their extant workes, and some kept in 
priuat. 

Thomas Norton Esquier. 

George Gascoigne Esquier. 

Frauncis Kindlemarsh, Esquier. 

Thomas Atchloiv. 

George Whetstones. 
These being deceased. . . . 

[Belvedere, or The Garden of the Muses, reprinted in The Spenser Society's 
Publications, 1875. The volume consists of a collection of brief 
extracts from the English poets mentioned above. Four passages 
are quoted from Jonson's The Case is Altered.] 

Robert Allot, 1600. 

[In his England's Par?iassus, or The Choicest Flowers of our 
Modern Poets, Allot quotes: Every Alan in his Humour, II, i, 223, 
and V, i, 265; Every Man out of his Humour, Induction, 11. 181, 



TO BEN JONSON 9 

230, I, i, 343, I, i, 405, II, ii, 80, III, ii, 113, IV, iv, 188; The 
Forest, Epode XI; Underwoods, Ode to the Earl of Desmond. 
The following passages attributed to Jonson remain untraced: 

Those that in blood such violent pleasure have, 
Seldome descend but bleeding to their grave. (P. 159.) 

Warres greatest woes, and miseries increase, 

Flowes fro the surfets which we take in peace. (P. 171.) 

Gold is a sutor, never tooke repulse. 

It carries Palme with it, (where e're it goes) 

Respect, and observation; it uncovers 

The knottie heads of the most surly Groomes, 

Enforcing yron doores to yeeld it way, 

Were they as strong ram'd up as Aetna gates. 

It bends the hams of Gossip Vigilance, 

And makes her supple feete, as swift as winde. 

It thawes the frostiest, and most stiffe disdaine: 

Muffles the clearnesse of Election, 

Straines fancie unto foule Apostacie. 

And strikes the quickest-sighted Judgement blinde. 

Then why should we dispaire? dispaire? Away: 

Where Gold's the Motive, women have no Nay. (P. 192.)] 

John Marston, 1600 01. 

Phi[lomuse\. . . . Believe it, Doricus, his spirit 
Ts higher blooded than to quake and pant 
At the report of Scoff's artillery. 
Shall he be crest-fall'n, if some looser brain. 
In flux of wit uncivilly befilth 
His slight composures? Shall his bosom faint. 
If drunken Censure belch out sour breath 
From Hatred's surfeit on his labour's front? 
Nay, say some half a dozen rancorous breasts 
Should plant themselves on purpose to discharge 
Imposthum'd malice on his latest scene. 
Shall his resolve be struck through with the blirt 



10 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Of a goose-breath? What imperfect-born, 
What short-liv'd meteor, what cold-hearted snow 
Would melt in dolour, cloud his mudded eyes, 
Sink down his jaws, if that some juiceless husk. 
Some boundless ignorance, should on sudden shoot 
His gross-knobb'd burbolt with — " That's not so good; 
Mew, blirt, ha, ha, light chaffy stuff! " 
Why, gentle spirits, what loose-waving vane. 
What anything, would thus be screw'd about 
With each slight touch of odd phantasmatas? 
No, let the feeble palsey'd lamer joints 
Lean on opinion's crutches; let the — 

Dor[icns]. Nay, nay, nay. 
Hea\'en's my hope, I cannot smooth this strain; 
Wit's death, I cannot. W'hat a leprous humour 
Breaks from rank swelling of these bubbling wits? 
Now out upon 't, I wonder what tight brain. 
Wrung in this custom to maintain contempt 
'Gainst common censure; to give stiff counter-buffs. 
To crack rude scorn even on the very face 
Of better audience. Slight, is't not odious? 
Why, hark you, honest, honest Philomuse 
(You that endeavour to endear our thoughts 
To the composer's spirit), hold this firm: 
Music and poetry were first approved 
By common sense; and that which pleased most. 
Held most allowed pass: know, rules of art 
Were shaped to pleasure, not pleasure to your rules; 
Think you, if that his scenes took stamp in mint 
Of three or four deem'd most judicious. 
It must enforce the world to current them. 
That you must spit defiance on dislike? 
Now, as I love the light, were I to pass 
Through public verdict, I should fear my form. 
Lest ought I offer'd were unsquared or warp'd. 
The more we know, the more we want : 
What Bayard bolder than the ignorant? 



TO BEN JONSON II 

Believe me, Philomuse, i' faith thou must, 
The best, best seal of wit is wit's distrust. 

[The Induction to What You Will. It is generally supposed that in 
this passage Marston rebukes Jonson for his arrogant scorn of 
public criticism.] 

John Marston, 1 600-01. 

Sim[plicius Faber]. Monsieur Laverdure, do you see that 
gentleman? He goes but in black satin, as you see, but, by 
Helicon! he hath a cloth of tissue wit. He breaks a jest; ha, 
he'll rail against the courts till the gallants — O God! he is very 
nectar; if you but sip of his love, you were immortal. . . . 

(P. 345-) 

* * * * 

LampatJw. I'll stand as confident as Hercules, 
And, with a frightless resolution, 
Rip up and lance our time's impieties . . . 
Let me unbrace my breasts, strip up my skeves, 
Stand like an executioner to vice . . . 
For I'll make greatness quake. I'll tan the hide 
Of thick-skinn'd Hugeness ... 
This is the strain that chokes the theatres; 
That makes them crack with full-stuff 'd audience; 
This is your humour only in request, 

Forsooth to rail. (P. 376.) 

* * * * 

Jaco. They say there's revels and a play at court. 

Lav. A play to-night? 

Qua. Ay, 'tis this gallant's wit. 

Jaco. Is't good? Is't good? 

Lam. I fear 'twill hardly hit. (P. 403.) 

[What You Will; the page references are to The Works of John Marston, 
ed. A. H. Bullen, 1887, vol. ii. Throughout the play Marston 
satirizes Jonson in the person of Lampatho. The above passages 
are cited merely by way of illustration. The last refers to Jonson's 
Cytithia's Revels.] 



IJ A\ ALI.rSIOX-BOOK 

The Stationers' Registers, iboi. 

j;, Maii 
Walter Burre 

Entred for his Copyo under the handes of master 

Pasfeyld and master warden whyte A booke calleil 

-.VrtrrK\\s/<jr the faun toine of self lore vj ' 



J I Pccembris. 
Marhewe I.ownes 

Entrtxi for his copie under the handes of master Pas- 
feild and the Wardens. A booke called Poekisler or 

his arrai[g]nepnent vj ' 

[Arber's Transcript, Hi, 1S5, log.] 

Title-pages, looi. 

Every Man in his Humor. As it hath boene sundry times 
publikely acted by the right honorable the Lord Chamberlaine 
his servants. Written by Ben. lohnson. Imprinted at London 
for Walter Bur re. . . . 1001. 

rho Fountaine of Selfe-Lo\-e. Or C\ nthias Revels. As it 
hath beene sundry rimes privately acted in the Black- Friers by 
the Children of her ^Luesties Chappell. Written by Ben: 
lohnson. . . . Imprinted at London for Walter Burre. . . • 
1001. 

Charles Fit2geofifrey, 1601, 

Ad Btnjcminuni Jonsonion. 
In jus te voce. Jonsoni venito: 
Adsiim. qui plagii et mala^ rapinse 
Te ad Pht\>bi peragam reum tribunal. 
Assidente choro novem dearum. 
Quaxiam drama ta scilicet diserta. 
Xuper qua^ Elysii roseti in umbni, 
Fa^stivissimus omnium p«.^eta. 
Plautus ct^mposuit. diisque tandem 
Stellate exhibiiit pi^li in theatro. 
Movendo superis leves cachinnos. 
Et risos tetrico ]ovi ciendo. 



TO BEN JONSON 13 

Axe plaiisibus intonante utroque; 
Hicc tu dramata scilicet diserta, 
Clepsisti siiperis negotiosis. 
Qua? tu nunc tua \enditare pergis: 

In jus te voco, Jonsoni venito. 

En pro te pater ipse, Rexque Pha>bus 
Assurgit m(xi6, Jonsoni, palamque 
Testatur, tua serio fuisse 
Ilia dramata, teque condidisse 
Sese non modo conscio, at ju\ante: 
Unde ergo sibi Plautus ilia tandem . 

Nactus exhibuit, Jovi Deisque? 
Maiae Filius, et Nepos Atlantis, 
Pennatus celeres pedes, at ungues 
Viscatus, \olucer puer, vaferque, 
Furto condere quidlibet jocoso, 
I't quondam facibus suis Amorem 
Per ludos viduavit, et pharetra, 
Sic nuper (siquidem solet frequenter 
Tecum ludere, plaudere, et jocari) 
Neglectas tibi clepsit has papyrus 
Secumque ad superos abire jussit: 

Jam victus taceo pudore, vincis 

Pha^bo Judice, Jonsoni, et Patrono. 
[Charles Fitzgeoffrey, Affaniae: sive Epigrammatum, 1601.] 

Love's Martyr, 1601. 
Hereafter Follow Diverse Poeticall Essaies on the former 
Subject; viz: the Turtle and Phcenix. Done by the best and 
chiefest of our moderne writers, with their names subscribed to 
their particular workes: never before extant. And (now first) 
consecrated by them all generally, to the love and merite of the 
true-noble K^iight, Sir lohn Salisburie. Dignum laude virum 
Afusa vetat mori. [Printer's device.] MDCI. 

[The above is the title of a small collection of verse appended to Robert 
Chester's Love's Martyr, celebrating Chester's patron, Sir John 
Salisbury. Jonson contributes a poem, as do also Shakespeare, 
Chapman, Marston, and "Ignoto."] 



xxxx^ 



14 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Philip Henslowe, 1601. 

Lent unto m'' alleyn the 25 of septmbr 

1 601 to lend unto Bengemen Johnson upon 

his writtinge of his adicians in geronymo 

the some of 

[Henslmve's Diary, ed. W. W. Greg, 1904, i, 149. The entry relates to 
additions to Thomas Kyd's The Spanish Tragedy.] 

Thomas Dekker, 1601. 

To the World. 

... I care not much if I make description (before thy Uni- 
versality) of that terrible Poetomachia lately commenc'd betweene 
Horace the second [i.e. Jonson] and a band of leane-witted Poet- 
asters [Marston, Dekker, and others]. They have bin at high 
wordes, and so high, that the ground could not serve them, but 
(for want of chopins) have stalk't upon Stages. 

Horace hal'd his Poetasters to the barre [in his play, Poetaster], 
the Poetasters untruss'd Horace [in Satiromastix, or The Un- 
trussing of the Humorous Poet]: how worthily eyther, or how 
wrongfully, {World) leave it to the jurie. Horace (questionles) 
made himselfe beleeve, that his Burgonian wit might desperately 
challenge all commers, and that none durst take up the foyles 
against him. It's likely, if he had not so beleiv'd, he had not 
bin so deceiv'd, for hee was answer'd at his owne weapon; and 
if before Apollo himselfe (who is Coronator Poetarum) an in- 
quisition should be taken touching this lamentable merry murder- 
ing of Innocent Poetry, all Mount Helicon to Bun-hill, it would 
be found on the Poetasters side se defendendo. Notwithstanding, 
the Doctors thinke otherwise. I meete one and he runnes full 
butt at me with his satires homes, for that in untrussing Horace 
I did onely whip his fortunes and condition of life, where the 
more noble reprehension had bin of his mindes deformitie, whose 
greatnes, if his criticall lynx had with as narrow eyes observ'd in 
himselfe, as it did little spots upon others, without all disputation, 
Horace would not have left Horace out of Every man ins Humour. 
His fortunes? why, does not he taxe that onely in others? Read 
his Arraignement and see. A second cat-a-mountaine mewes 



TO BEN JONSON 15 

and calles me barren, because my brames could bring foorth 
no other stigmaticke than Tucca, whome Horace had put to 
making, and begot to my hand; but I wonder what language 
Tucca would have spoke, if honest Capten Hannam had bin 
borne without a tongue? 1st not as lawful! then for mee to 
imitate Horace, as Horace Hannam'^ Besides, if I had made an 
opposition of any other new-minted fellow, (of what test so ever) 
hee had bin out-fac'd and out-weyed by a settled former approba- 
tion; neyther was it much improper to set the same dog upon 
Horace, whom Horace had set to worrie others. 

I could heere (eeven with the feather of my pen) wipe off other 
ridiculous imputations, but my best way to answer them, is to 
laugh at them: onely thus much I protest (and sweare by the 
divinest part of true Poesie) that (howsoever the limmes of my 
naked lines may bee, and I know have bin, tortur'd on the 
racke) they are free from conspiring the least disgrace to any 
man, but onely to our new Horace; neyther should this ghost 
of Tucca have walkt up and downe Poules Church-yard, but that 
hee was raiz'd up (in print) by newe exorcismes. World, if thy 
Hugenes will beleive this, doe; if not, I care not. for I dedicate 
my booke, not to thy Greatnes, but to the Greatnes of thy scorne, 
defying which, let that mad dog Detraction bite till his teeth 
bee worne to the stumps. Envy feede thy snakes so fat with 
poyson till they burst. World, let all thy adders shoote out 
their Hidra-keaded-forked stinges. Ha, Ha, Nauci; if none will 
take my part, (as I desire none) yet I thanke thee (thou true 
Venusian Horace) for these good wordes thou giv'st me : Populus 
me sihylat at mihi plaudo. World farewell. 
* * * * 

Horrace [i.e. Jonson] sitting in a study behinde a curtaine, a 
candle by him burning, bookes lying confusedly: to himself e. 

Horace. To thee whose fore-head swels with roses. 
Whose most haunted bower 
Gives life & sent to every fiower. 
Whose most adored name incloses 
Things abstruse, deep, and divine. 
Whose yellow tresses shine. 



1 6 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Bright as Eoan fire. 

O me, thy priest, inspire! 

For I to thee and thine immortall name, 

In — in — in golden tunes, 

For I to thee and thine immortall name — 

In — sacred raptures flowing, flowing, swimming, swimming, 

In sacred raptures swimming, 

Immortal name, game, dame, tame, lame, lame, lame, 

Pux, hath, shame, proclaime, oh — 

In sacred raptures flowing, will proclaime, not — 

O me, thy priest, inspyre! 

For I to thee and thine immortall name. 

In flowing numbers fild with spright and flame. 

Good, good! in flowing numbers fild with spright & flame. . . . 

(I, ii, I-20.) 

* * * * 

Asin[ius]. ... As God judge me, ningle, for thy wit thou 
mayst answer any Justice of peace in England I warrant; thou 
writ'st in a most goodly big hand too — I like that — & readst as 
leageably as some that have bin sav'd by their neck-verse. 
(I, ii, 137-42.) 

Hor. A pox upon him ! By the white & soft hand of Minerva, 
He make him [Captain Tucca] the most ridiculous — dam me if I 
bring not's humor ath stage! & — scurvy, lymping tongu'd 
captaine, poor greasie bufi^e jerkin, hang him! Tis out of his 
element to traduce me: I am too well ranckt, Asinius, to bee 
stab'd with his dudgion wit: sirra. He compose an epigram upon 
him, shall goe thus — 

Asin. Nay, I ha more news: ther's Crispinus & his jorneyman 
poet, Demetrius Fannius, too, they sweare they'll bring your life 
& death upon'th stage like a bricklayer in a play. (I, ii, 161-173.) 

* * * * 

Cris. Doe we not see fooles laugh at heaven, and mocke 
The Makers workmanship? Be not you griev'd, 
If that which you molde faire, upright, and smooth. 
Be skrewed awry, made crooked, lame and vile. 



TO BEN JONSON 1 7 

By racking coments, and calumnious tongues; 
So to be bit, it ranckles not, for innocence 
May witii a feather brush ofif the foulest wrongs. 
But when your dastard wit will strike at men 
In corners, and in riddles folde the vices 
Of your best friends, you must not take to heart, 
If they take off all gilding from their pilles. 
And onely offer you the bitter coare. 

Hor. Crispinus! 

Cns. Say that you have not sworne unto your paper, 
To blot her white cheekes with the dregs and bottome 
Of your friends private vices : say you sweare 
Your love and your aleageance to bright vertue 
Makes you descend so low as to put on 
The office of an executioner, 
Onely to strike off the swolne head of sinne, 
Where ere you finde it standing: 
Say you sweare, 

And make damnation parcell of your oath, 
That when your lashing jestes make all men bleed. 
Yet you whip none. Court, citty, country, friends. 
Foes, all must smart alike; yet court, nor citty, 
Nor foe, nor friend, dare winch at you. (I, ii, 259-84.) 
* * * * 

Tucca. . . . Why doe you walk heere in this gorgeous gallery 
of gallant inventions, with that whooreson, poore lyme & hayre- 
rascall? why — 

Oris. O peace, good Tucca, we are all sworne friends. 

Tuc. Sworne? .That Judas yonder that walkes in rug, will 
dub you Knights ath Poste, if you serve under his band of oaths : 
the copper-fact rascal wil for a good supper out sweare twelve 
dozen of graund juryes. 

Blunt. A pox ont, not done yet, and bin about it three dayes? 

Hor. By Jesu, within this houre — save you, Captayne Tucca. 

Tnc. Dam thee, thou thin bearded hermaphrodite, dam thee. 
He save my selfe for one, I warrant thee. Is this thy tub, 
Diogines? (I, ii, 330-46.) 



1 8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Tuc. Out, bench-whistler, out, ile not take thy word for a 
dagger pye: you browne-bread-mouth stinker, lie teach thee to 
turne me into Bankes his horse, and to tell gentlemen I am a 
jugler, and can shew trickes. 

Hor. Captaine Tucca, but halfe a word in your eare. 

Tuc. No, you starv'd rascall, thou't bite off mine eares 
then : you must have three or foure suites of names, when like a 
lowsie, pediculous vermin th'ast but one suite to thy backe: 
you must be call'd Asper, and Criticus, and Horace, thy tytle's 
longer a reading then the stile a the big Turkes — Asper, Criticus, 
Quintus Horatius Flaccus. (I, ii, 366-80.) 

T- -F "i* T^ 

Blunt. Nay prethee, deare Tucca, come, you shall shake — 

Tuc. Not hands with great Hunkes there, not hands, but lie 
shake the gull-groper out of his tan'd skinne. 

Cris. & Dem. For our sake, Captaine, nay, prethee, holde. 

Tuc. Thou wrongst heere a good, honest rascall, Crispinus, 
and a poore varlet, Demetrius Fannius, (bretheren in thine owne 
trade of poetry); thou sayst Crispinus sattin dublet is reavel'd 
out heere, and that this penurious sneaker is out at elboes. 
Goe two, my good full-mouth'd ban-dog, lie ha thee friends 
with both. 

Hor. With all my heart, captaine Tucca, and with you too, 
lie laye my handes under your feete, to keepe them from aking. 

Omnes. Can you have any more? 

Tuc. ... lie have thee in league first with these two rowly 
powlies: . . . Crispinus shall give thee an olde cast sattin suite, 
and Demetrius shall write thee a scene or two, in one of thy 
strong garlicke comedies; and thou shalt take the guilt of con- 
science for't, and sweare tis thine owne, olde lad, tis thine owne: 
thou never yet fels't into the hands of sattin, didst? 

Hor. Never, Captaine, I thanke God. 

Tuc. Goe too, thou shalt now, King Gorboduck, thou shalt, 
because Ile ha thee damn'd, lie ha thee all in sattin, Asper, 
Criticus, Quintus Horatius Flaccus; Crispinus shall doo't, thou 
shalt doo't, heyre apparant of Helicon, thou shalt doo't. (I, ii, 
385-420.) 



TO BEN JONSON 19 

Tuc. ... I know th'art an honest, low minded pigmey, foi 
I ha scene thy shoulders lapt in a plaiers old cast cloake, like a 
slie knave as thou art: and when thou ranst mad for the death of 
Horatio, thou borrowedst a gowne of Roscius the stager, (that 
honest Nicodemus) and sentst it home lowsie, didst not? Re- 
sponde, didst not? . . . What, wut end? wut hang thy selfe 
now? has he not writ finis yet, Jacke? What, will he bee fif- 
teene weekes about this cockatrices egge too? has hee not cackeld 
yet? not laide yet? 

Blunt. Not yet, hee sweares hee will within this houre. 

Tuc. His wittes are somewhat hard bound: the puncke, his 
muse, has sore labour ere the whoore be delivered: the poore 
saffron-cheeke sun-burnt gipsie wantes phisicke; give the hungrie- 
face pudding-pye-eater ten pilles, ten shillings, my faire Angelica, 
they'l make his muse as yare as a tumbler. 

Blunt. He shall not want for money, if heele write. 

Tuc. ... He dam up's oven-mouth for rayling at's. (I, ii, 
433-65-) 

* sH Hi ^ 

King. Horace? What's he. Sir Vaughan? 

Sir Vaughan. As hard-favourd a fellow as your majestie has 
seene in a sommers day; he does pen, an't please your grace, 
toyes that will not please your grace; tis a poet — we call them 
bardes in our countrie — singes ballads and rymes, and I was 
mightie sealous that his inke, which is blacke and full of gall, 
had brought my name to your majestie, and so lifted up your 
hye and princely coller. 

King. I neither know that Horace, nor mine anger. (H, i, 
150-60.) 

Hor. Well, away, deare Asinius, deliver this letter to the 
young gallant, Druso, he that fell so strongly in love with mee 
yesternight. 

Asin. . . . But hast writ all this since, ningle? I know thou 
hast a good running head and thou listest. 

Hor. . . . Why, you rooke, I have a set of letters readie 
starcht to my hands, which to any fresh suited gallant that but 



20 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

newlie enters his name into my rowle, I send the next morning, 
ere his ten a clocke dreame has rize from him, onelie with claping 
my hand to 't, that my novice shall start, ho, and his haire 
stand an end, when hee sees the sodaine flash of my writing. 
What, you prettie, diminutive roague, we must have false fiers 
to amaze these spangle babies, these true heires of Ma[5/er] 
Justice Shallow. . . . heere be epigrams upon Tucca, divulge 
these among the gallants. . . . (II, ii, 26-49.) 

Sir Quint[ilian]. What gentleman is this in the mandilian, 
a soldyer? 

Sir Vaugha?i. No, tho he has a very bad face for a souldier, 
yet he has as desperate a wit as ever any scholler went to 
cuff"es for; tis a sentleman poet; he has made rimes called 
thalamimums, for M. Pride-groome. . . . 

Sir Quint. Is this he? Welcome, sir, your name? Pray 
you walke not so statelie, but be acquainted with me boldlie; 
your name, sir? 

Hor. Quintus Horacius Flaccus. (Ill, i, 69-79.) 
* * * * 

Sir Vaughan. ... I will indite the ladies & Miniver caps 
to a dinner of plumbes, and I shall desire you, M. Horace, to 
speake or raile; you can raile, I hope in God a mighty. 

Hor. You meane to speake bitterlie. 

Sir Vaughan. Right, to spitte bitterly upon baldnes, or the 
thinnes of haire. (Ill, i, 116-22.) 

Tuc[ca\. . . . Thou hast been at Parris garden hast not? 

Hor. Yes, Captaine, I ha plaide Zulziman there. 

Sir Vaughan. Then, M. Horace, you plaide the part of an 
honest man. 

Tuc. Death of Hercules, he could never play that part well 
in 's life, no Fulkes you could not: thou call'st Demetrius jorney- 
man poet, but thou putst up a supplication to be a poore jorney- 
man player, and hadst beene still so, but that thou couldst not 
set a good face upon 't: thou hast forgot how thou amblest (in 
leather pilch) by a play-wagon, in the high way, and took'st mad 



TO BEN JONSON 21 

Jeronimoes part, to get service among the mimickes: and, when 
the Stagerites banisht thee into the He of Dogs, thou turn'dst 
ban-dog (villanous Guy) & ever since bitest, therefore I aske if 
th'ast been at Parris-garden, because thou hast such a good 
mouth; thou baitst well, read, lege, save thy selfe and read. 

(IV, i, 151-70.) 

* * * * 

Boy. Capten, Capten, Horace stands sneaking heere. 

Tuc. I smelt the foule-fisted morter-treader: come, my most 
damnable fastidious rascal, I have a suite to both of you. 

Asin. O holde, most pittifuU Captaine, holde. 

Hor. Holde, Capten, tis knowne that Horace is valliant, & a 
man of the sword. 

Ttic. A gentleman or an honest cittizen shall not sit in your 
pennie-bench theaters, with his squirrell by his side cracking 
nuttes, nor sneake into a taverne with his mermaid, but he shall 
be satyr'd, and epigram'd upon, and his humour must run upo'th 
stage: you'll ha Every Gentleman in 's humour, and Every Gentle- 
man out on 's humour: wee that are heades of legions and bandes, 
and feare none but these same shoulder-clappers, shall feare you, 
you serpentine rascall. 

Hor. Honour'd Capten — 

Tuc. Art not famous enough yet, my mad Horastratus, for 
killing a player, but thou must eate men alive? thy friends? 
Sirra wilde-man, thy patrons? thou Anthropophagite, thy 
Mecaenasses? (IV, ii, 65-87.) 

Tuc. . . . Tis thy fashion to flirt inke in everie mans face, 
and then to craule into his bosome, and damne thy selfe to wip't 
ofif agen, yet to give out abroad, that hee was glad to come to 
composition with thee: I know. Monsieur Machiavell, tis one a 
thy rules; My long-heel'd troglodite, I could make thine eares 
burne now, by dropping into them all those hot oathes, to which 
thy selfe gav'st voluntarie fire, (whe thou wast the man in the 
moone) that thou wouldst never squib out any new salt-peter 
jestes against honest Tucca, nor those maligotasters, his poet- 
asters; I could Cinocephalus, but I will not, yet thou knoAvst 



22 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

thou hast broke those oathes in print, my excellent infernall. 
. . . Thou 'It shoote thy quilles at mee when my terrible backe 's 
turn'd for all this, wilt not porcupine? and bring me & my 
Heliconistes into thy dialogues to make us talke madlie, wut not 

Lucian? (IV, ii, 101-31.) 

* * * * 

Dicache. That same Horace, me thinkes, has the most un- 
godly face, by my fan; it lookes, for all the world, like a rotten 
russet apple when tis bruiz'd: its better then a spoonefull of 
sinamon water next my heart, for me to heare him speake; hee 
soundes it so i' th' nose, and talkes and randes for all the world 
like the poore fellow under Ludgate: oh fye upon him! 

Min[iver]. By my troth, sweet ladies, it's cake and pudding 
to me to see his face make faces when hee reades his songs and 
sonnets. 

Hor. He face some of you for this when you shall not budge. 

Tuc. Its the stinckingst dung-farmer — foh upon him! 

Sir Vaughan. Foh? oundes, you make him urse than old 
herring: foh? by Sesu, I thinke he's as tidy and as tall a poet as 
ever drew out a long verse. 

Tuc. The best verse that ever I knew him hacke out was his 
white neck-verse. Noble Ap Rees, thou wouldst scorne to laye 
thy lippes to his commendations, and thou smeldst him out as I 
doe: hee calles thee the burning Knight of the Salamander. . . . 

Cris. Come, Tucca, come, no more; the man's wel knowne, 
thou needst not paint him: whom does he not wrong? 

Tuc. Mary, himselfe, the uglie Pope Boniface pardons him- 
self e, and therefore my judgement is that presently he bee had 
from hence to his place of execution, and there bee stab'd, stab'd, 
stab'd. (IV, iii, 100-54.) 

* * * * 

Tuc. . . . Feele my weapon. ... As blunt as the top of 
Poules; tis not like thy aloe, cicatrine tongue, bitter; no tis no 
stabber, but like thy goodly and glorious nose, blunt, blunt, 
blunt: dost roare bulchin? dost roare? th'ast a good rouncivall 
voice to cry lanthorne & candlelight. 

Sir Vaughan. Two urds, Horace, about your eares: how 



TO BEN JONSON 23 

chance it passes that you bid God boygh to an honest trade of 
building symneys and laying downe brickes, for a worse handi- 
craftnes, to make nothing but railes; your muse leanes upon 
nothing but filthy rotten railes, such as stand on Poules head, 
how chance? (IV, iii, 181-98.) 

* * * * 

Tuc. . . . Dost stampe? thou thinkst th'ast morter under 
thy feete, dost? (IV, iii, 211-12.) 

* * * * 

Hor. Why would you make me thus the ball of scorne? 

Tuc. He tell thee why, because th'ast entred actions of 
assault and battery against a companie of honourable and 
worshipfuU fathers of the law: you wrangling rascall, law is one 
of the pillers ath land, and if thou beest bound too 't (as I hope 
thou shalt bee) thou't proove a skip-jacke, thou't be whipt. 
He tell thee why, because thy sputtering chappes yelpe that 
arrogance, and impudence, and ignoraunce are the essential 
parts of a courtier. ... He tell thee why, because thou cryest 
ptrooh at worshipfuU cittizens, and cal'st them fiat-caps, cuck- 
olds, and banckrupts, and modest and vertuous wives punckes & 
cockatrices. He tell thee why, because th'ast arraigned two 
poets against all lawe and conscience; and not content with that, 
hast turn'd them amongst a company of horrible blacke fryers. 
. . . Thou art the true arraign'd poet, and shouldst have been 
hang'd, but for one of these part-takers, these charitable copper- 
lac'd Christians, that fetcht thee out of purgatory (players I 
meane) theaterians, pouch-mouth, stage-walkers; for this, poet, 
for this, thou must lye with these foure wenches, in that blancket, 
for this — 

Hor. What could I doe, out of a just revenge. 
But bring them to the stage? they envy me 
Because I holde more worthy company. 

Dem. Good Horace, no; my cheekes doe blush for thine. 
As often as thou speakst so. Where one true 
And nobly-vertuous spirit, for thy best part 
Loves thee, I wish one ten, even from my heart. 
I make account I put up as deepe share 



24 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

• 
In any good mans love, which thy worth earnes, 

As thou thy selfe. We envy not to see 

Thy friends with bayes to crowne thy poesie. 

No, heere the gall lyes, we that know what stufife 

Thy verie heart is made of, know the stalke 

On which thy learning growes, and can give life • 

To thy (once dying) basenes, yet must we 

Dance antickes on your paper. 

Hor. Fannius— 

Cris. This makes us angry, but not envious. 
No, were thy warpt soule put in a new molde, 
Ide weare thee as a jewel set in golde. 

Sir Vaughan. And jewels, Master Horace, must be hang'd 
you know. ... 

Tuc. 1st not better be out at elbowes, then to bee a bond- 
slave, and to goe all in parchment as thou dost? 

Hor. Parchment, Captaine? tis Perpetuana I assure you. 

Tuc. My perpetuall pantaloone, true, but tis waxt over; 
th'art made out of wax; thou must answere for this one day; 
thy muse is a hagler, and weares cloathes upon best-be-trust: 
th'art great in some bodies books for this, thou knowst where; 
thou wouldst bee out at elbowes, and out at heeles too, but that 
thou layest about thee with a bill for this, a bill — 

Hor. I confesse, Capten, I followed this suite hard. . . . 

Sir Vaughan. ... I have put upon my heade a fine device 
to make you laugh; tis not your fooles cap, Master Horace, 
which you cover'd your poetasters in, but a fine tricke, ha, ha, 
is jumbling in my braine. . . . To conclude, tis after this 
manners, because Ma. Horace is ambition, and does conspire to 
bee more hye and tall as God a mightie made him, wee'll carry 
his terrible person to court, and there before his Masestie dub, 
or what you call it, dip his muse in some licour, and christen 
him, or dye him into collours of a poet. (IV, iii, 225-323.) 
* * * * 

Cris. My Leige, to wed a comicall event 
To presupposed tragicke argument. 
Vouchsafe to exercise your eyes, and see 
A humorous dreadfuU poet take degree. 



TO BEN JONSON 25 

King. Dreadfull, in his proportion, or his pen? 

Cris. In both, he calles himselfe the whip of men. . . . 
Demetrius, 

Call in that selfe-creating Horace, bring 
Him and his shaddow foorth. . . . 

Enter Tucca, his hoy after him with tivo pictures under his 
cloake, and a wreath of nettles: Horace and Bubo puVd in 
by th' homes bound both like Satyres, . . . 

Tuc. So, tug, tug, pull the mad bull in by'th homes: so, 
baite one at that stake, my place-mouth yelpers, and one at that 
stake. Gurnets-head. . . . 

Sir Vaughan. Goe too, I pray, Captaine Tucca, give us all 
leave to doe our busines before the King. 

Tuc. With all my heart, shi, shi, shi shake that Beare-whelp 
when thou wut. 

Sir Vaughajt. Horace and Bubo, pray send an answere into 
his Masesties eares, why you goe thus in Ovids Morter-Morphesis 
and strange fashions of apparrell. . . . 

Hor. I did it to retyre me from the world, 
And turne my Muse into a Timonist, 
Loathing the general leprozie of sinne. 
Which like a plague runs through the soules of men: 
I did it but to — 

Tuc. But to bite every Motley-head vice by'th nose; you 
did it, ningle, to play the bug-beare satyre, & make a campe 
royall of fashion-mongers quake at your paper bullets: you 
nastie tortois, you and your itchy poetry breake out like Christ- 
mas, but once a yeare, and then you keepe a Revelling, & Araign- 
ing, & a scratching of mens faces, as tho you were Tyber, the 
long-tail'd Prince of Rattes, doe you? . . . 

Cris. Under controule of my dreade Soveraigne, 
We are thy Judges; thou that didst Arraigne, 
Art now prepar'd for condemnation? 
Should I but bid thy muse stand to the barre. 
Thy selfe against her wouldst give evidence. 
For flat rebellion gainst the sacred lawes 
Of divine Poesie: heerein most she mist. 



26 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Thy pride and scorne made her turne Saterist, 
And not her love to vertue (as thou preachest). 
Or, should we minister strong pilles to thee, 
What lumpes of hard and indigested stuffe, 
Of bitter satirisme, of arrogance, 
Of selfe-love, of detraction, of a blacke 
And stinking insolence, should we fetch up? 
But none of these; we give thee what's more fit: 
With stinging nettles crowne his stinging wit. 

Tuc. Wei said, my poeticall huckster, now he's in thy hand- 
ling, rate him, doe, rate him well. 

Hor. O I beseech your Majesty, rather then thus to be netled. 
He ha my satyres coate pull'd over mine eares, and bee turn'd 
out a the nine muses service. . . . 

Sir Vaughan. Flea off this hairie skin, M. Horace, so, so, so, 
untrusse, untrusse. 

Tuc. His poeticall wreath, my dapper puncke-fetcher. 

Hor. Ooh — 

Tuc. Nay your oohs, nor your CalUnoes cannot serve your 
turne: your tongue you know is full of blisters with rayling, 
your face full of pockey-holes and pimples with your fierie 
inventions, and therefore to preserve your head from aking, this 
biggin is yours, — 

. Sir Vaughan. Nay, by Sesu, you shall bee a poet, though 
not lawrefyed, yet nettlefyed, so. 

Tuc. Sirra stincker, thou'rt but untruss'd now: I owe thee a 
whipping still, and He pay it: ... it shall not bee the Whipping 
a' th Satyre, nor the Whipping of the blinde-Beare, but of a 
counterfeit Jugler, that steales the name of Horace. 

King. How? counterfeit? does hee usurpe that name? 

Sir Vaughan. Yes indeede, ant please your Grace, he does 
sup up that abhominable name. 

Ttic. Hee does, O King Cambises, hee does: thou hast no 
part of Horace in thee but 's name and his damnable vices: 
thou hast such a terrible mouth, that thy beard's afraide to 
peepe out: but, looke heere, you staring Leviathan, heere's the 
sweete visage of Horace; looke, perboylde-face, looke: Horace 



TO BEN JONSON 27 

had a trim long-beard, and a reasonable good face for a poet, 
(as faces goe now-a-dayes) : Horace did not skrue and wriggle 
himselfe into great mens famyliarity, (inpudentlie) as thou doost : 
nor weare the badge of gentlemens company, as thou doost thy 
taffetie sleeves, tactkt too onely with some pointes of profit: no, 
Horace had not his face puncht full of oylet-holes, like the cover 
of a warming-pan: Horace lov'd poets well, and gave coxcombes 
to none but fooles, but thou lov'st none, neither wisemen nor 
fooles, but thy selfe: Horace was a goodly corpulent gentleman, 
and not so leane a hollow-cheekt scrag as thou art: no, heere's 
thee coppy of thy countenance, by this will I learne to make a 
number of villanous faces more, and to looke scurvily upon'th 
world, as thou dost. 

Crts. Sir Vaughan will you minister their oath? . . . 

Sir Vaughan. Now, Master Horace, you must be a more 
horrible swearer, for your oath must be (like your wittes) of 
many coUours, and, like a brokers booke, of many parcels. 

Tiic. Read, read th'inventory of his oath. . . . 

Sir Vaughan. Inprimis, you shall sweare by Phoebus and 
the halfe a score muses lacking one, not to sweare to hang your 
selfe, if you thought any man, ooman or silde, could write playes 
and rimes, as well-favour'd ones as your selfe. . . . You shall 
sweare not to bumbast out a new play, with the olde lynings of 
jestes, stolne from the Temples Revels. . . . Moreover, you 
shall not sit in a gallery, when your comedies and enterludes 
have entred their actions, and there make vile and bad faces at 
everie lyne, to make sentlemen have an eye to you, and to make 
players afraide to take your part. . . . Besides, you must for- 
sweare to venter on the stage, when your play is ended, and to 
exchange curtezies and complements with gallants in the lordes 
roomes, to make all the house rise up in armes, and to cry that's 
Horace, that's he, that's he, that's he, that pennes and purges hu- 
mours and diseases. . . . Secondly, when you bid all your friends 
to the marriage of a poore couple, that is to say, your Wits and 
necessities, alias dictus, to the rifling of your Muse, alias, your 
Muses tip-sitting, alias, a Poets Whit son- Ale, you shall sweare 
that within three dayes after, you shall not abroad, in booke- 



28 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

binders shops, brag that your Vize-royes or Tributorie Kings, 
have done homage to you, or paide quarterage. . . . Moreover 
and Inprimis, when a knight or sentlemen of urship, does give 
you his passe-port, to travaile in and out to his company, and 
gives you money for Gods sake, I trust in Sesu, you will sweare 
(tooth and nayle) not to make scalde and wry-mouth jestes 
upon his knight-hood, will you not? 

Hor. I never did it, by Parnassus. 

Tuc. Wut sweare by Parnassus, and lye too, Doctor Doddi- 
pol? 

Sir Vaughan. Thirdly, and last of all, saving one, when your 
playes are misse-likt at court, you shall not crye mew like a 
pusse-cat, and say you are glad you write out the courtiers 
element. 

Tuc. Let the element alone, tis out a thy reach. 

Sir Vaughan. In brieflynes, when you sup in tavernes amongst 
your betters, you shall sweare not to dippe your manners in too 
much sawce, nor at table to fiing epigrams, embleames, or play- 
speeches about you (lyke hayle-stones) to keepe you out of the 
terrible daunger of the shot, upon payne to sit at the upper ende 
of the table, a'th left hand of Carlo Buffon. Sweare all this, by 
Apollo and the eight or nine muses. 

Hor. By Apollo, Helicon, the muses (who march three and 
three in a rancke) and by all that belongs to Pernassus, I sweare 
all this. . . . 

King. . . . He whose pen 
Drawes both corrupt and cleare bloud from all men, 
Careles what veine he prickes, let him not rave 
When his owne sides are strucke. Blowes blowes doe crave. 
(V, ii, 112-403.) 



Epilogus. 

Tucca. . . . Irecant, beare witnes all you gentle-folkes (that 
walke i'th galleries) I recant the opinions which I helde of 
courtiers, ladies, & cittizens, when once (in an assembly of 
friers) I railde upon them. That hereticall libertine Horace, 



TO BEN JONSON 29 

taught me so to mouth it. Besides, twas when stiffe Tucca was 

a boy: twas not Tucca that railde and roar'd then, but the Devill 

& his angels. . . . Are you adviz'd what you doe when you 

hisse? you blowe away Horaces revenge, but if you set your 

hands and scales to this, Horace will write against it, and you 

may have more sport. He shall not Joose his labour, he shall 

not turne his blanke verses into waste paper. No, my poetasters 

will not laugh at him, but will untrusse him agen, and agen, 

and agen. 

[Satiromastix, or The Untmssing of the Humorous Poet. This play, 
the climax of the Poetomachia, or war between Jonson and Marston 
and Dekker, was written in reply to Jonson's Poetaster, in which 
he represented himself as Horace. The passages quoted above are 
designed merely as illustrations; one should read the play in its 
entirety. The line numbers refer to the edition by Josiah H. 
Penniman, Belles-Lettres Series, 1913.] 

W. I., 1601. 
TO THE VAYNE-GLORIOVS, 

the Satyrist, Epigrammatist, and Humorist. 
. . . Now by your leave. Monsieur Humorist [i. e. Jonson], 
you that talke of mens humours and dispositions ... I con- 
sider of you, as of a younger brother: you wanted this same 
muleis nimium, and nulli satis, coyne (a goodyere of it) and 
therefore opus & usus put you to such a pinch, that you made 
sale of your Humours to the Theater, and there plaid Pee boh 
with the people in your humour, then out of your humour. I 
do not blame you for this: for though you were guilty of many 
other things, yet I dare say, you were altogether without guilt 
at that time, notwithstanding I suppose you would have writ- 
ten for love, and not for money: but I see you are one of those 
that if a man can finde in his purse to give them presently, 
they can finde in their hearts to love him everlastingly; for 
now-adaies Aes in presenti perfectum format amor em. But it 
makes the lesse matter, because I know but few but arecorivals 
with you in the love of silver. . . . 

It seemes your brother Satyr e, and ye twayne, 
Plotted three wayes to put the Divell downe; 
One should outrayle him by invective vaine, 



30 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

One all to flout him like a countrey clowne; 
And one in action, on a stage out-face, 
And play upon him to his great disgrace. 

You Humorist, if it be true I heare. 
An action thus against the Divell brought,^ 
Sending your humours to each Theater, 
To serve the writ that ye had gotten out. 
That Mad-cap" yet superiour praise doth win, 
Who, out of hope, even casts his cap at sin. 

^Against the booke of Humours. 
^Pasqiiils Mad-cap. 

[The Whipping of the Satyre. Imprinted at London, for John Flasket. 
i6oi. The pamphlet is directed against John Marston, Nicholas 
Breton, and Ben Jonson. The passages cited above are merely illus- 
trative; the entire volume should be consulted. Dr. F. E. Fiske is 
now preparing a reprint of this and other related pamphlets. A reply 
to The Whipping of the Satyre was issued in 1601 by an anonymous 
writer, entitled The Whipper of the Satire, his Penance in a White 
Sheet, but this work, mainly a defense of Marston, contains no clear 
allusion to Jonson.] 

Nicholas Breton, 1601. 

Maye it please you to understand, that it was my happe of 
late, passing through Paules Church yarde, to looke upon 
certaine pieces of Poetrye, where I found (that it greeues me to 
speake of) one writer so strangely inueigh against another, that 
many shallow wits stoode and laught at their follies. Now, 
findinge their labours so toucht with ill tearms, as befitted not the 
learned to lay open; I thought good, having little to doe, to 
write unto all such writers, as take pleasure to see their wits 
plaie with the world, that they will henceforth, before they fall 
to worke, haue in minde this good prouerbe: Play with me; 
but hurt vie not: and iest with me; but disgrace me not; Least that 
the world this iest do kindly smother. Why should one foole be 
angry with an other? ... 

* * * * 



TO BEN JONSON 3I 

Tis strange to see the humors of these dales: 
How first the Satyre bites at imperfectios: 
The Epigrammist in his quips displaies 
A wicked course in shadowes of corrections: 
The Humorist hee strictly makes collections 
Of loth'd behauiours both in youthe and age: 
And makes them plaie their parts upon a stage. 

An other Madcappe in a merry fit, 
For lacke of witte did cast his cappe at sinne: 
And for his labour was well tould of it, 
For too much playing on that merry pinne: 
For that all fishes are not of one finne: 

And they that are of cholerick compactions, 
Loue not too plain to reade their imperfections. 

Now comes another with a new founde vaine: 
And onely falls to reprehensions : 
Who in a kind of scofiing chiding straine, 
Bringes out I knowe not what in his inuentions: 
But I will ghesse the best of his intencions: 
Hee would that all were well, and so would I: 
Fooles shuld not too much shew their foolery. 

And would to God it had ben so in deed, 
The Satyres teeth had neuer bitten so : 
The Epigrammist had not had a seede 
Of wicked weedes, among his herbes to sowe, 
Nor one mans humor did not others showe. 

Nor Madcap had not showen his madness such, 
And that the whipper had not ierkt so much. 
* * * * 

No, poets, no: I write to yee in loue. 
Let not the world haue cause to laugh at us: 
Let us our mindes from such ill meanes remoue, 
As makes good spirits for to fall out thus : 
Let us our causes with more care discusse : 

Not bite, nor claw, nor scoffe, nor check, nor chide: 
But eche mend one, and ware the fall of pride. 



32 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

But, if you could, you should doe better much, 

To bend your studie to a better end, 

And neither one nor other seeme to tuch : 

But in such sorte, as may beseeme a friend: 

And doe no more your spirits idly spend 

With ierking, biting, skoffing and such humors 
As fill the world too full of wicked rumors. 

Let all good wits, if any good there be; 
Leaue trussing, and untrussing of their points, 
And heare thus much (although not learne) of me; 
The spirits, that the Oyle of Grace annoyntes. 
Will keepe their senses in those sacred ioynts. 

That each true-learned, Christian-harted brother 

Will be unwilling to offend another. 

[A'O Whippinge, Nor Trippinge: But a Kinde Friendly Snippinge, ed. 
Charles Edmonds, in the Isham Reprints, 1895.] 

Anonymous, 1601. 

Beniamin I oh n son. 

Iud[icio]. The wittiest fellow of a Bricklayer in England. 

Ing[enioso]. A meere Empyrick, one that getts what he hath 
by obseruation, and makes onely nature priuy to what he indites, 
so slow. an Inuentor that he were better betake himselfe to his 
old trade of Bricklaying, a bould whorson, as confident now in 
making a booke, as he was in times past in laying of a brick. 
(P. 87.) 

Kemp. Few of the university pen plaies well, they smell too 
much of that writer Quid, and that writer Metamorphosis, and 
talke too much of Proserpina & luppiter. Why heres our 
fellow Shakespeare puts them all downe, I and Ben lonson too. 
O that Ben lonson is a pestilent fellow, he brought up Horace 
giuing the Poets a pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath giuen 
him a purge that made him beray his credit. (P. 138.) 

[The Retiirne from Pernassus, Part II, ed. W. D. Macray, 1886. The 
play, though probably written in 1601, was apparently not acted 
until 1602. It was printed in 1606.] 



TO BEN JONSON 33 

Title-page, 1602. 

Poetaster or The Arraignment: As it hath beene sundry 
times privately acted in the Blacke Friers, by the children of her 
Maiesties Chappell. Composed, by Ben. lohnson. . . . London, 
printed for M[athew] L[ownes], . . . 1602. 

Philip Henslowe, 1602. 

Lent unto bengemy Johnsone at the ' 
a poyntment of E Alleyn & w" birde 
the 22 of June 1602 in earneste of a ^x'' 
Boocke called Richard crockbacke & for 
new adicyons for Jeronymo the some of 

[Henslowe' s Diary, ed. W. W. Greg, 1904, p. 168. This is the second 
payment to Jonson for additions to The Spanish Tragedy.] 

Anonymous, 1602. 

Pha[ntastes], . . . That fellow in the bays, methinks I should 

have known him; O, 'tis Comedus, 'tis so; but he has become 

nowadays something humorous, and too-too satirical up and 

down, like his great grandfather Aristophanes. 

[Lingua, 1607; Hazlitt's ed. of Dodsley's Old English Plays, 1874, ix, 
416. The passage quoted seems to be directed at Jonson, whose 
satirical comedies offended many contemporary writers.] 

John Manningham, 1603. 

12 Feb. 1602. 
Ben Johnson, the poet, nowe lives upon one Townesend, and 
scornes the world. {Tho: Overbury.) 

[Diary of John Manningham, ed. J. C. Bruce, Camden Society, 1868, 
p. 130.] 

William Camden, 1603. 

These may suffice for some Poeticall descriptions of our ancient 
Poets; if I would come to our time, what a world could I present 
to you out of Sir Philipp Sidney, Ed. Spencer, Samuel Daniel, 
Hugo Holland, Ben. Johnson, Th. Campion, Mich. Drayton, 
George Chapman, lohn Marston, William Shakespeare, and other 
most pregnant witts of these our times, whom succeeding ages 
may justly admire. 

[Remaines concerning Britaine, 1605. Poems, p. 8.] 



34 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Donne, 1603. 

To Ben Jonson, g Novemhris, 1603. 
If great men wrong me, I will spare myself; 
If mean I will spare them. I know the pelf 
Which is ill-got the owner doth upbraid; 
It may corrupt a judge, make me afraid, 
And a jury; but 'twill revenge in this. 
That, though himself be judge, he guilty is. 
What care I though of weakness men tax me? 
I had rather sufferer than doer be. 
That I did trust it was my nature's praise. 
For breach of word I knew but as a phrase. 
That judgment is, that surely can comprise 
The world in precepts, most happy and most wise. 
What though? Though less, yet some of both have we, 
Who have learn'd it by use and misery. 
Poor I, whom every petty cross doth trouble. 
Who apprehend each hurt that's done me, double, 
Am of this, though it should sink me, careless; 
It would but force me to a stricter goodness. 
They have great gain of me, who gain do win, 
If such gain be not loss, from every sin. 
The standing of great men's lives would afford 
A pretty sum, if God would sell His word. 
He cannot; they can theirs, and break them too; 
How unlike they are that they're liken 'd to. 
Yet I conclude, they are amidst my evils; 
If good, like Gods; the naught are so like devils. 
[Poems of John Donne, ed. 1635.] 

Henry Chettle, 1603. 
Death now hath seiz'd her in his icy arms. 

That sometime was the sun of our delight; 
And, pitiless of any after harms. 

Hath veil'd her glory in the cloud of night: 
Nor doth one poet seek her name to raise. 
That living, hourly, striv'd to sing her praise. 



TO BEN JONSON 35 

He that so well could sing the fatal strife 

Between the royal Roses, white and read, 
That prais'd so oft Eliza in her life, \^ 

His muse seems now to die, as she is dead : 
Thou sweetest song-man of all English swains, 
Awake for shame! honour ensues thy pains. 

But thou alone deserv'dst not to be blam'd : 

He that sung forty years her life and birth, 
And is by English Albions so much fam'd, 
For sweet mixt lays of majesty and mirth, 
Doth of her loss take now but little keep; 
Or else I guess he cannot sing, but weep. 

Neither doth Coryn, full of worth and wit, 

That finish'd dead Musseus' gracious song. 
With grace as great, and words, and verse as fit, 
Chide meagre death for doing virtue wrong: 

He doth not seek with songs to deck her hearse, 
Nor make her name live in his lively verse. 

Nor does our English Horace, whose steel pen 

Can draw characters which will never die, 
Tell her bright glories unto list'ning men, 
^ Of her he seems to have no memory : 

His muse another path desires to tread, 
True satyrs scourge the living, leave the dead. 

[England's Mourning Garment; worn here by plain Shepherds, in Memory 
of their sacred Mistress, Elizabeth; Queen of Virtue, while she lived; 
and Theme of Sorroiv, being dead. 1603; reprinted in The Harleian 
Miscellany, 1809, iii, 534. In the last stanza Chettle alludes to 
Jonson. During the course of the poem he has occasion to refer 
to many contemporary poets.] 

Anonymous, 1603. 

You Poets all, brave Shakspeare, Johnson, Greene, 
Bestow your time to write for Englands Queene. 
Lament, lament, lament you English Peeres, 
Lament your losse possest so many yeeres. 



36 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Returne your songs and Sonnets and your sayes: 

• To set foorth sweete Elizabeth.{a\ s praise. 

[A mournefiil Dittie, entituled Elizabeth's losse, together with a welcome 
for King James. In the Heber Collection of Ballads and Broad- 
sides.] 

I. C, about 1604. 

Who'e're will go unto the presse may see, 

The hated Fathers of vilde balladrie: 

One sings in his base note the River Thames 

Shal sound the famous memory of noble king lames; 

Another sayes that he will, to his death, 

Sing the renowned worthinesse of sweet Elizabeth, 

So runnes their verse in such disordered straine. 

And with them dare great majesty prophane. 

Some dare to this; some other humbly craves 

For helpe of Spirits in their sleeping graves. 

As he that calde to Shakespeare, lohnson, Greene, 

To write of their dead noble Queene; 

But he that made the Ballads of oh hone, 

Did wondrous well to whet the buyer on : 

These fellowes are the slaunderes of the time. 

Make ryming hatefull through their bastard rime. 

But were I made a judge in poetry. 

They all should burne for their vilde heresie. 

[Epigrames. Served out in 52 severall Dishes for every man to last with- 
out surfeiting, n. d., Epigram 12.] 

Sir John Roe, 1604. 

To Ben. lohnson, 6 Ian. 1603. 
The State and mens affaires are the best playes 
Next yours; 'Tis not more nor lesse than due praise. 
Write, but touch not the much descending race 
Of Lords houses, so settled in worths place, 
As but themselves none thinke them usurpers. 
It is no fault in thee to suffer theirs. 
If the Queene Masque, or King a hunting goe. 
Though all the Court follow, Let them. We know 
Like them in goodnesse that Court ne'r will be. 
For that were vertue, and not flatterie. 
Forget we were thrust out; It is but thus, 



TO BEN JONSON 37 

God threatens Kings, Kings Lords, as Lords doe us. 
Judge of strangers, Trust and believe your friend, 
And so me; And when I true friendship end, 
With guilty conscience let me be worse stonge. 
Then with Pophams sentence theeves, or Cookes tongue 
Traitors are. Friends are our selves. This I thee tell 
As to my friend, and to my selfe as Counsell; 
Let for a while the times unthrifty rout 
Contemne learning, and all your studies flout. 
Let them scorne Hell, they will a Sergeant feare, 
More then wee that; ere long God may forbeare, 
But Creditors will not. Let them increase 

In riot and excesse as their meanes cease; 

* * * * 

Well, let all passe, and trust him who nor cracks 
The bruised Reed, nor quencheth smoaking flaxe. 

[Although these verses were attributed to Donne in the 1699 edition of 
his poems, the real author is revealed in Jonson's Conversations 
with William Drummond: "Sir John Roe loved him; and when 
they two were ushered by my Lord Suffolk from a Mask, Roe 
wrote a moral Epistle to him which began. That next to playes, the 
Court and the State were the best; God threatneth Kings, Kings 
Lords, [as] Lords do us." The masque referred to was probably by 
Samuel Daniel. Cf. the entry under "Richard Whitlock, 1654."] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1604. 

T u c ^u- 1 16. Februarij 

John bmythick 

Entred for his copy under the handes of master Pasfeild 

and the wardens A booke called tJie case is altered. 

How? Aske Dalio and Millo provided that this copie be 

not taken from my other to the hurt of another mans 

book vj'* 

Edward Blunt 2 Novembris 

putt over to 

Thomas Thorp 

6 Augtisti 1605 

Entred for his copy under th[e h]andes of Master 
Pasfeild and the Wardens a booke called the tragedie of 

Seianus written by Beniamin Johnson vj*^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 252, 272.] 



38 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Title-page, 1604. 
B. Jon; his part of King James his Royall and Magnificent 
Entertainement through his Honorable Cittie of London. 
Thurseday the 15. of March. 1603. So much as was presented 
in the first and last of their Triumphall Arch's. With his speach 
made to the last Presentation, in the Strand, erected by in- 
habitants of the Dutchy, and Westminster. Also a briefe 
Panegyre of his Majesties first and well auspicated entrance to 
his high Court of Parliament, on Monday, the 19. of the same 
Moneth. With other Additions. V. S. for Edward Blount, 1604. 

[An interesting description of this pageant will be found in Gilbert 
Dugdale's The Time Triumphant, 1604; see An English Garner, 
Stuart Tracts, ed. C. H. Firth, p. 77.] 

John Marston, 1604. 

[Dedication.] 

BENIAMINO JONSONIO, 

POETAE 

ELEGANTISSIMO, 

GRAVISSIMO, 

AMICO 

SUO, CANDIDO ET CORDATO, 

lOHANNES MARSTON, 

MUSARUM ALUMNUS, 

ASPERAM HANG SUAM THALIAM 

D. D. 

Epilogue. 

\ Then till another's happier Muse appears, 
Till his Thalia feast your learned ears, 
To whose desertful lamps pleased Fates impart 
Art above nature, judgment above art, 
Receive this piece, which hope nor fear yet daunteth: 

I He that knows most knows most how much he wanteth. 

[The Malcontent, 1604. The allusion in the Epilogue is probably to 
Jonson's forthcoming play, Volpone.] 



TO BEN JONSON 39 

Sir Thomas Edmonds, 1604. 

Letter to the Earl of Shrewsbury, December 5, 1604. 

Our Court of ladies is preparing to solemnize the Christmas 

with a gallant mask [Jonson's Masque of Blackness] which doth 

cost the Exchequer £3000. Sir Philip Herbert's marriage will 

also produce another mask among the noblemen and gentlemen. 

[Edmund Lodge, Illustrations of British History, 1838, iii, 114.] 

John Packer, 1604. 

Letter to Sir Ralph Winwood, December 12, 1604. 
Now Sir for Women's News. Wee have here great Preparation 
for the Queen's Mask [of Blackness] ; wherein besides her Majesty 
will be eleven Ladies, Bedford, Suffolk, Susan Vere, Lady 
Dorothy Rich, a Daughter of my Lord Chamberlaines, Lady 
Walsingham, Lady Bevill, and some other which I have for- 
gotten for haste. But the Lady of Northumberland is excused 
by Sickness, Lady Hertford by the Measles. Lady of Notting- 
ham hath the Polypus in her Nostril, which some fear must be 
cut off. The Lady Hatton would feign have had a Part, but 
some unknown reason kept her out; whereupon she is gone to 
her House. 

[Winwood State Papers, ii, 39.] 

John Chamberlain, 1604. 

Letter to Sir Ralph Winwood, December 18, 1604. 
. . . Here is great Provision for Cockpit, to entertaine him 
[King James] at home, and of Masks and Revells against the 
Marriage of Sir Phillip Herbert and the Lady Susan Vere, which 
is to be celebrated on St. John's Day. The Queen hath likewise 
a great Mask [Jonson's Masque of - Blackness] in hand against 
Twelfth-Tide, for which there was 30oo£. delivered a Month ago. 
[Winwood State Papers, 1725, ii, 41.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1604. 

Nicolo Molin, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge and 
Senate, December 2g [O.S. ig], 1604. 
Her Majesty is preparing a masque [Jonson's Masque of 
Blackness] which will cost twenty-five thousand crowns. At 



40 AN ALLUSION -BOOK 

Court they are studying how the Ambassadors can be present 
at the festival. But as the King declines to make any decision 
as to precedence between France and Spain, it is held certain 
that no Ambassador will be invited, and if anyone is curious 
to see the sight, he must go privately. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, x, 201.] 

The Revells Booke, 1605. 

1605 

On Twelfe Night the Queens Ma*'^ Maske of Moures [Jonson's 

Masque of Blackness] w^ Aleven Laydies of honno'' to accupayney 

her ma*'*^ w'^'' cam in great showes of devises w*"^ thay satt in w*'' 

exselent musike. 

By his Ma*'^ platers. The 8 of January A play cauled Euery 
on out of his Umor. 

By his Ma^'"" plaiers. On Candelmas night A pla\e Euery 

one in his Umor. 

[Peter Cunningham, Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court* 
1842, p. 204.] 

Sir Dudley Carleton, 1605. 

Letter to Sir Ralph Wimvood, January, 1605. 
On Twelfth-Day ... at Night we had the Queen's Maske [of 
Blackness] in the Banquetting-House, or rather her Pagent. 
There was a great Engine at the lower end of the Room, which 
had Motion, and in it were the Images of Sea-Horses with other 
terrible Fishes, which were ridden by Moors: The Indecorum 
was, that there was all Fish and no Water. At the further end 
was a great Shell in form of a Skallop, wherein were four Seats; 
on the lowest sat the Queen with my Lady Bedford; on the rest 
were placed the Ladies Suffolk, Darby, Rich, Effingham, Ann 
Herbert, Susan Herbert, Elizabeth Howard, Walsingham and Bevil. 
Their Apparell was rich, but too light and Curtizan-like for such 
great ones. Instead of Vizzards, their Faces, and Arms up to 
the Elbows, were painted black, which was Disguise sufficient, 
for they were hard to be known ; but it became them nothing so 



TO BEN JONSON 41 

well as their red and white, and you cannot imagine a more ugly 
Sight, then a Troop of lean-cheek' d Moors. The Spanish and 
Venetian Ambassadors were both present, and sate by the king 
in State; at which Monsieur Beaumont quarrells so extreamly, 
that he saith the whole Court is Spanish. But by his Favour, he 
should fall out with none but himself, for they were all indiffer- 
ently invited to come as private Men, to a private Sport; which 
he refusing, the Spanish Ambassador willingly accepted, and 
being there, seeing no Cause to the contrary, he put off Don 
Taxis, and took upon him El Senor Embaxadour, wherein he 
outstript our little Monsieur. . . . The Night's Work was con- 
cluded with a Banquet in the great Chamber, which was so 
seriously assaulted, that down went Table and Tresses before 
one bit was touched. 

[Winwood State Papers, 1725, ii, 43-44.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1605. 

Nicolo Molin, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge and 
Senate, January 27 [O.S. 77], 1605. 

On the i6th [O.S. 6th] of this month, Epiphany old style, the 
King created his second son Duke of York, and made twelve 
Knights of the Bath, so called because at their creation they are 
dipped. The morning of that day, the Chamberlain sent to 
say that if I cared to see the Queen's masque [Jonson's Masque 
of Blackness] that evening he would secure a convenient seat 
for myself and three or four of my suite. He explained that all 
the Ambassadors were being invited privately, so as to avoid 
quarrels for precedence. I said I would gladly attend. Mean- 
time the Spanish Ambassador hearing that the French Am- 
bassador was confined to his bed made vigorous representations 
at Court to secure for himself a public invitation; and he suc- 
ceeded. Sir Lewis Lewkenor presently went to visit the French 
•Ambassador, who having got wind of what the Spaniard was 
about, received Lewkenor very haughtily. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, x, 212. Cf. also State Papers, 
Domestic, James I, xii, nos. 6, 16; xiv, nos. 59, 60.] 



42 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Title-page, 1605. 

Eastward Hoe. As It was playd in the Black-friers. By 

The Children of her Maiesties Revels. Made by Geo: Chapman. 

Ben: lonson. loh: Marston. At London Printed for William 

Aspley. 1605. 

[Three quarto editions of the play appeared in 1605, with slight vari- 
ation in title-pages.] 

George Chapman, 1605. 

To His Most Gratious Majestie: 
Vouchsafe most Excellent Soveraigne to take mercifull notice 
of the submissive and amendfull sorrowes of your two most 
humble and prostrated subjects for your highnes displeasure 
[at Eastward Hoe?]: Geo: Chapman and Ben Jhonson; whose 
chief offences are but two clawses, and both of them not our owne; 
much less the unnaturall issue of our offenceles intents: I hope 
your Majestie's universall knowledge will daigne to remember: 
That all Authoritie in execution of Justice especiallie respects the 
manners and lives of men commanded before it; And accordinge 
to their generall actions censures anythinge that hath scapt 
them in perticular; which cannot be so disproportionable that 
one being actuallie good, the other should be intentionallie ill; 
if not intentionallie (howsoever it may lie subject to construction) 
where the whole founte of our actions may be justified from 
beinge in this kind offensive; I hope the integrall partes will taste 
of the same loyall and dutifull order: which to aspire from your 
most Cesar-like Bountie (who conquered still to spare the con- 
quered, and was glad of offences that he might forgive). In all 
dijection of never-inough itterated sorrowe for your high dis- 
pleasure, and vowe of as much future delight as of your present 
anger; we cast our best parts at your highnes feete, and our 

worst to hell. 

George Chapman. 

[Reproduced in The Athejiceiun, March 30, 1901, p. 403. See also 
Joseph Q. Adams, Shakespearean Playhouses, pp. 216-18. M. Cas- 
telain doubts that Eastward Hoe is the play alluded to in these 
letters.] 



TO BEN JONSON 43 

George Chapman, 1605. 

[Letters to the Lord Chamberlain .] 
Most Worthely Honord : 

Of all the oversights for which I suffer, none repents me so 
much as that our unhappie booke [Eastward Hoe}] was presented 
without your Lordshippes allowance, for which we can plead 
nothinge by way of pardon: but your Person so farr removed 
from our requirde attendance; our play so much importun'de, 
and our cleere opinions, that nothinge it contain'd could worthely 
be held offensive; and had your good Lordshippe vouchsafte 
this addition of grace to your late free bounties, to have heard 
our reasons for our well wayd Opinions; And the wordes truly 
related on which both they and our enemies Complaints were 
grounded; I make no question but your Impartial Justice, wolde 
have stoode much further from their clamor then from our 
acquittall; which indifferent favoure, if yet your no less than 
Princelye respect of vertue shall please to bestowe on her poore 
observant, and commaunde my Appearaunce; I doubt not but 
the Tempest that hath dryven me into this wrackfull harbor 
will cleere with my Innocence; And withall the most sorrow 
inflicting wrath of his Excellent Majestic; which to my most 
humble and zealous affection is so much the more stormye, by 
how much some of my obscured laboures have striv'd to aspire 
in stead therof his illustrate favoure: And shall not be the least 
honor to his most Royall vertues. 

To the most worthy and honorable Protector of vertue : The 

Lord Chamberlain. 

George Chapman. 

* * * * =H * * 

[To The Lord Chamberlain :] 

Notwithstandinge your lordshipps infinite free bountie hath 
pardon'd and grac't when it might justlie have punisht; and 
remembered our poore reputations when our acknowledged 
dewties to your lordshippe might worthely seeme forgotten ; yet 
since true honor delightes to encrease with encrease of goodness; 
& that our habiHties and healths fainte under our yrcksome 
burthens; we are with all humilitie enforc't to solicite the 



44 AX ALLUSION-BOOK 

propagation of your most noble favours to our present freedome; 
And the rather since we heare from the Lord Dawbney, that his 
highnes hath remitted one of us whoHe to your Lo: favoure; 
And that the other had still youre Lo: passinge noble remem- 
brance for his jointe libertie; which his highnes selfe would not 
be displeas'd to allow; And thus with all gratitude admyringe 
youre no lesse then sacred respect to the poore estate of vertue, 
never were our soules more appropriate to the powers of our 
lives, then our uttmost lives are consecrate to your noblest service. 

George Chapman. 
[Reproduced in The Athenceiim, March 30, 1901, p. 403.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1605. 

6. Augusti 
Thomas Thorpe 

Entred for his copy by assignement of Edward Blunt 
the tragedie of Seianus which was entred to the said 

Edward 2 novemhris ultimo vj'^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 297.] 

Title-page, 1605. 
Seianus his fall. Written by Ben: lonson. At London, 
Printed by G. Elld, for Thomas Thorpe. 1605. 

George Chapman, 1605. 

In Sejanum Ben. Jonsoni Et Musis, ei sibi in Deliciis. 
So brings the wealth-contracting Jeweller 
Pearles and deare Stones, from richest shores & streames, 
As thy accomplisht Travaile doth confer 
From skill-inriched soules, their wealthier Gems; 
So doth his hand enchase in ammeld Gould, 
Cut, and adornd beyond their Native Merits, 
His solid Flames, as thine hath here inrould 
In more then Goulden Verse, those betterd spirits; 
So he entreasures Princes Cabinets, 
As thy Wealth will their wished Libraries; 
So, on the throate of the rude Sea, he sets 
His ventrous foote, for his illustrious Prise; 



TO BEN JONSON 45 

And through wilde Desarts, armd with wilder Beasts, 

As thou ad\'enturst on the Multitude, 

Upon the boggy and engulfed brests 

Of Hyrelings, sworne to finde most Right, most rude : 

And he, in stormes at Sea, doth not endure. 

Nor in vast Desarts, amongst Woolves, more danger; 

Then we, that would with Verfue live secure, 

Sustaine for her in every Vices anger. 

Nor is this Allegorie unjustly rackt. 

To this strange length; Onely that Jewels are, 

In estimation meerely, so exact: 

And thy worke, in it selfe, is deare and Rare. 

Wherein Minerva, had beene vanquished, 

Had she, by it, her sacred Loomes advanc't. 

And through thy subject woven her graphicke Thread, 

Contending therein, to be more entranc't; 

For, though thy hand was scarce addrest to drawe 

The Semi-circle of Sejanus life. 

Thy Muse yet makes it the whole Sphsere, and Lawe, 

To all State Lives; and bounds Ambitions strife. 

And as a little Brooke creepes from his Spring, 

With shallow tremblings, through the lowest Vales, 

As if he feard his streame abroad to bring. 

Least profane Feete should wrong it, and rude Gales; 

But finding happy Channels, and supplies 

Of other Fordes mixe with his modest course. 

He growes a goodly River, and descries 

The strength, that mannd him, since he left his Source; 

Then takes he in delightsome Meades, and Groves, 

And, with his two-edg'd waters, flourishes 

Before great Palaces, and all Mens Loves 

Build by his shores to greete his Passages: 

So thy chaste Muse, by vertuous selfe-mistrust. 

Which is a true Marke of the truest Merit, 

In Virgin feare of Mens illiterate Lust, 

Shut her soft wings, and durst not showe her spirit; 

Till, nobly cherisht, now thou lett'st her flie. 



46 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Singing the sable Orgies of the Muses, 

And in the highest Pitche of Tragedie, 

Mak'st her command, all things thy Ground produces. 

But, as it is a Signe of Love's first firing 

Not Pleasure by a lovely Presence taken, 

And Bouldnesse to attempt; but close Retiring 

To places desolate, and Fever-shaken ; 

So, when the love of Knowledge first affects us. 

Our Tongues doe falter, and the Flame doth rove 

Through our thinne spirits, and of feare detects us 

T'attaine her Truth, whom we so truely love. 

Nor can (saith Aeschilus) a faire young Dame 

Kept long without ^ Husband, more containe 

Her amorous eye, from breaking forth in flame, 

When she beholds a Youth that fits her vaine ; 

Then any mans first taste of Knowledge truly 

Can bridle the affection she inspireth; 

But let it flie on Men, that most unduly 

Haunt her with hate, and all the Loves she fireth. 

If our Teeth, Head, or but our Finger ake, 

We straight seeke the Phisitian; If a Fever, 

Or any curefull maladie we take, 

The grave Phisitian is desired ever: 

But if proud Melancholic, Lunacie, 

Or direct Madnesse over-heate our braines. 

We Rage, Beate out, or the Phisitian flie. 

Loosing with vehemence, even the sense of Paines. 

So of Offenders, they are past recure, 

That with a tyranous spleene, their stings extend 

Gainst their Reprovers; They that will endure 

All discreete Discipline, are not said t' offend. 

Though others qualified, then, with Naturall skill 

(More sweete mouthd, and affecting shrewder wits) 

Blanche Coles, call Illnesse, good, and Goodnesse ill, 

Breath thou the fire, that true-spoke Knowledge fits. 

Thou canst not then be Great? yes. Who is he, 

(Said the good Spartane King) greater then I, 



TO BEN JONSON 47 

That is not likewise juster? No degree 

Can boast of emminence, or Emperie, 

(As the great Stagerite held) in any One 

Beyond Another, whose Soule farther sees, 

And in whose Life the Gods are better knowne: 

Degrees of Knowledge difference all Degrees. 

Thy Poeme, therefore, hath this due respect, 

That it lets passe nothing, without observing, 

Worthy Instruction; or that might correct 

Rude manners, and renowme the well deserving: 

Performing such a lively Evidence 

In thy Narrations, that thy Hearers still 

Thou turnst to thy Spectators; and the sense 

That thy Spectators have of good or ill. 

Thou inject'stjoyntly to thy Readers soules. 

So deare is held, so deckt thy numerous Taske, 

As thou putt'st handles to the Thespian Boules, 

Or stuckst rich Plumes in the Palladian Caske. 

All thy worth, yet, thyself must Patronise, 

By quaffing more of the Castalian Head ; 

In expiscation of whose Mysteries, 

Our Netts must still be clogd, with heavy Lead, 

To make them sincke and catche: For cheerefuU Gould 

Was never found in the Pierian Streames, 

But Wants, and Scornes, and Shames for silver sould. 

What, what shall we elect in these extreames? 

Now by the Shafts of the great Cyrrhan Poet, 

That beare all light, that is, about the world; 

I would have all dull Pog/-Haters know it. 

They shall be soule-bound, and in darknesse hurld 

A thousand yeares, (as Sathan was, their Syre) 

Ere Any worthy, the Poetique Name, 

(Might I, that warme but, at the Muses fire. 

Presume to guard it), should let Deathlesse Fame 

Light halfe a beame of all her hundred Eyes, 

At him dimme Taper, in their memories. 

Flie, flie, you are too neare; so odorous Flowers, 



48 AN ALLUSION -BOOK 

Being held too neare the Sensor of our Sense, 
Render not pure, nor so sincere their powers, 
As being held a little distance thence; 
Because much troubled Earthy parts improve them: 
Which mixed with the odors we exhall, 
Do vitiate what we drawe in. But remoove them 
A little space, the Earthy parts do fall. 
And what is pure, and hote by his tenuitye, 
Is to our powers of Savor purely borne. 
But flie, or stale; Use thou the assiduitie, 
Fit for a true Contemner of their scorne. 
Our Phosbus may, with his exampling Beames, 
Burne out the webs from their Arachnean eyes. 
Whose knowledge (Day-star to all Diadems,) 
Should banish knowledge-hating Policies: 
* * * * 
And so, good Friend, safe passage to thy Freight, 
To thee a long Peace, through a vertuous strife, 
In which lets both contend to Vertues height. 
Not making Fame our Object, but good life. 

Come forth, Sejanus, fall before this Booke, 
And of thy Falles Reviver aske forgivenesse. 
That thy lowe Birth and Merits durst to looke 
A Fortune in the face, of such unevennesse; 
For so his fervent love to Vertue, hates, 
That her pluckt plumes should wing Vice to such calling, 
That he presents thee to all marking States, 
As if thou hadst beene all this while in falling. 
His strong Arme plucking, from the Middle-world, 
Fames Brazen House, and layes her Towre as low. 
As Homers Barathrum; that, from Heaven hurld. 
Thou might'st fall on it: and thy Ruines growe 
To all Posterities, from his worke, the Ground, 
And under Heav'n, nought but his Song might sound. 
HAEC COMMENTATUS EST 

Georgius Chapmannus. 
[The first of the gratulatory poems prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 



TO BEN JONSON 49 

Hugh Holland, 1605. 

For Ids loorthy Friend, the Author. 
In that this book doth deign Sejanus' name, 
Him unto more than Caesar's love it brings: 
For where he could not with ambition's wings, 
One quill doth heave him to the height of fame. 
Ye great-ones though, (whose ends may be the same,) 
Know, that, (however we do flatter kings,) 
Their favours (like themselves) are fading things. 
With no less envy had, than lost with shame. 
Nor make your selves less honest than you are. 
To make our author wiser than he is: 
Ne of such crimes accuse him, which I dare 
By all his Muses swear be none of his. 
The men are not, some faults may be these times: 
He acts those men, and they did act these crimes. 
[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 

Cygnus, 1605. 

To the deserving Author. 

When I respect thy argument, I see 
An image of those times: but when I view 
The wit, the workmanship, so rich, so true. 
The times themselves do seem retriev'd to me. 
And as Sejanus, in thy tragedy, 
Falleth from Caesar s grace ; even so the crew 
Of common playwrights, whom opinion blew 
Big with false greatness, are disgrac'd by thee. 
Thus, in one tragedy, thou makest twain : 
And, since fair works of justice fit the part 
Of tragic writers. Muses do ordain 
That all tragedians. Masters of their Art, 
Who shall hereafter follow on this tract. 
In writing well, thy Tragedy shall act. 
[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 



50 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Th. R., 1605. 

To his learned, and beloved Friend, upon his aequall worke. 
'Sejanus, great, and eminent in Rome, 
Raised above all the senate, both in grace 
Of princes' favour, authority, and place. 
And popular dependence; yet how soon. 
Even with the instant of his overthrow. 
Is all this pride and greatness now forgot, 
(Only that in former grace he stood not) 
By them which did his state not treason know! 
His very flatterers, that did adorn 
Their necks with his rich medals, now in flame 
Consume them, and would lose even his name, 
Or else recite it with reproach, or scorn! 
This was his Roman fate. But now thy Muse 
To us that neither knew his height, nor fall, 
Hath raised him up with such memorial. 
All future states and times his name shall use. 
What, not his good, nor ill could once extend 
To the next age, thy verse, industrious. 
And learned friend, hath made illustrious 
To this. Nor shall his, or thy fame have end. 
[Prefixed to Sejaniis, 1605. The writer was probably Sir Thomas Roe. 

John Marston, 1605. 

Amicis, amici nostri dignissimi, dignissimis, 
Epigramma. 
D. 
Johannes Marstonius. 
Ye ready friends, spare your unneedful bays. 
This work despairful envy must even praise: 
Phoebus hath voiced it loud through echoing skies, 
Sejanus' Fall shall force thy merit rise; 
For never English shall, or hath before 
Spoke fuller gracd. He could say much, not more. 
[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 



TO BEN JONSON 5 1 

William Strachey, 1605. 

Upon Sejanus. 
How high a poor man shows in low estate 
Whose base is firm, and whole frame competent, 
That sees this cedar, made the shrub of fate, 
Th' one's little, lasting; th' others confluence spent. 
And as the lightning comes behind the thunder 
From the torn cloud, yet first invades our sense: 
So every violent fortune, that to wonder 
Hoists men aloft, is a clear evidence 
Of a vaunt-courring blow the fates have given 
To his forced state: swift lightning blinds his eyes, 
While thunder, from comparison — hating heaven, 
Dischargeth on his height, and there it lies! 
If men will shun swol'n fortune's ruinous blasts. 
Let them use temperance: nothing violent lasts. 
[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 

<^IAOE, 1605. 

To Mm that hath so excelVd on this excellent subject. 
Thy poem (pardon me) is mere deceit; 
Yet such deceit, as thou that dost beguile. 
Art juster far than they who use no wile; 
And they who are deceived by this feat, 
More wise, than such who can eschew thy cheat: 
For thou hast given each part so just a style. 
That men suppose the action now on file ; 
(And men suppose, who are of best conceit). 
Yet sorne there be, that are not moved hereby. 
And others are so quick, that they will spy 
Where later times are in some speech unweaved, 
Those, wary simples; and these, simple elves; 
They are so dull, they cannot be deceived. 
These so unjust, they will deceive themselves. 
[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605.] 



52 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Ev. B., 1605. 

To the most understanding Poet. 

When in the Globe's fair ring, our world's best stage, 

I saw Sejanus set with that rich foil, 

I look't the author should have born the spoil 

Of conquest, from the writers of the age: 

But when I viewed the people's beastly rage, 

Bent to confound thy grave, and learned toil. 

That cost thee so much sweat, and so much oil, 

My indignation I could hardly assuage. 

And many there (in passion) scarce could tell 

Whether thy fault, or theirs deserved luost blame; 

Thine, for so showing, theirs, to wrong the same: 

But both they left within that doubtful hell. 

From whence, this publication sets thee free: 

They, for their ignorance, still damned be. 

[Prefixed to Sejanus, 1605. Possibly "Ev." is an error for "Ed.," and 
the author Edmund Bolton, one of Jonson's best friends.] 

The Privy Council, 1605. 

7 Nov. 1605. 

A warrant unto Benjamen Johnson to let a certaine priest 

knowe that offered to do good service to the State, that he should 

securely come and goe, to and from the Lords, which they 

promised in the said warrant upon their honors. 

[Extract from a MS. in the British Museum, containing an Abstract 
of the Privy Council Register which is now lost ; reprinted in The 
AthencEiim, April 22, 1865, p. 553, with a letter from Jonson to the 
Earl of Salisbury, and a general discussion of Jonson's connection 
with the gunpowder plot conspirators.] 

Title-page, 1606. 

Hymenaei: or The Solemnities of IVIasque, and Barriers, 
IVIagnificently performed on the eleventh, and twelfth Nights, 
from Christmas; At Court: To the auspicious celebrating of the 
IVIarriage-union, betweene Robert, Earle of Essex, and the Lady 
Frances, second Daughter to the most noble Earle of Suffolke. 
By Ben: lonson. . . . Valentine Sims for Thomas Thorp . . . 
1606. 



TO BEN JONSON 53 

John Pory, 1606. 

Letter to Sir Robert Cotton, January, 1606. 
I have seen both the Maske [Hymencei] on Sunday, and the 
Barriers on Munday night. . . . But to return to the Mask. 
Inigo, Ben, and the actors, men and women, did their parts 
with great commendation. The conceit or soul of the Mask 
was Hymen bringing in a bride, and Juno Pronuba's priest a 
bridegroom, proclaiming that those two should be sacrificed to 
Union; and here the poet made an apostrophe to the Union of 
the Kingdoms. But before the sacrifice could be performed, 
Ben Jonson turned the globe of the earth standing behind the 
altar, and within the concave sat the eight men-maskers, repre- 
senting the four Humours and the four Affections, who leaped 
forth to disturb the sacrifice to Union. But amidst their fury, 
Reason, that sat above them all crowned with burning tapers, 
came down and silenced them. These eight, with Reason their 
mediator, sat somewhat like the ladies in the Scollop-shell of 
the last year. About the globe hovered a middle region of 
clouds, in the centre whereof stood a grand concert of musicians, 
and upon the cantons sat the ladies, four at one corner and four 
at another, who descended upon the stage, not in the down- 
right perpendicular fashion, like a bucket in a well, but came 
gently sloping down. These eight after the sacrifice w'as ended, 
represented the Eight Nuptial Powers of Juno Pronuba, who 
came down to confirm their Union. The men were clad in 
crimson, and the women in white. They had every one a white 
plume of the richest hern's feathers, and were so rich in jewels 
upon their heads as was most glorious. I think they hired and 
borrowed all the principal jewels and ropes of pearls both in 
court and city. (The Spanish ambassador seemed but poor to 
the meanest of them.) They danced all variety of dances, both 
severally and promiscue, and then the women took the men as 
named by the Prince [Henry] who danced with as great perfec- 
tion, and as settled a majesty as could be devised. 

[From the Cotton MSS. in the British Museum; see J. P. Collier, 
History of English' Dramatic Poetry, 1879, i, 350; the Gifford- 
Cunningham ed. of Jonson, 1871, i, xxxiii, note 4.] 



54 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Marston, 1606. 

To the General Reader. 

. . . To transcribe authors, quote authorities, and translate 
Latin prose orations into EngHsh blank verse, hath, in this 
subject, been the least aim of my studies. 

[Sophonisha, 1606. Marston seems to be alluding to Jonson's Sejanus.] 
Anonymous, 1606. 

Envy. From my foul study will I hoist a wretch, 
A lean and hungry meagre cannibal. 
Whose jaws swell to his eyes with chawing malice. 
And him I'll make a poet. 
This scrambling raven with his needy beard 
Will I whet on to write a comedy, 
Wherein shall be compos'd dark sentences, 
Pleasing to factious brains. 
And every other where place me a jest, 
Whose high abuse shall more torment than blows. 

[Epilogue to the 1606 edition of Mucedorus. The allusion has been 
thought to be to Jonson, and the phrase "needy beard" certainly 
points to him.] 

Thomas Dekker, 1607. 
Item, when a cobler of poetry, called a playe patcher, was con- 
demned with his catte to be duckt three times in the cucking- 
stoole of Pyriphlegeton, (beeing one of the scalding rivers,) 
till they both dropt again, because he scolded against his betters, 
and those w^hom hee lived uppon: laid out at that time for straw, 
to have caried pusse away if she had kittened, to avoyd anie 
catterwalling in Hell, j. pennie. 

[.4 Knight's Conjuring, 1607, ed. E. F. Rimbault, 1842, p. 65. The 
allusion seems to be to Jonson, and the Poetomachia.] 

Lewis Machin, 1607. 

Everie Woman in her Humor. London. Printed by E. A. 
for Thomas Archer, and are to be solde at his shop in the Popes- 
head-Pallace, neere the Royall Exchange. 1609. 

[The title is evidently in imitation of Jonson's Every Man in his Humor, 
and it is frankly indebted for the suggestion of several of its charac- 
ters and some of its plot to Every Man out of his Humor. For 



TO BEN JONSON 55 

the identification of the author, and the date of composition, see 
J. Q. Adams, "Every Woman in her Humor and The Dumb Knight," 
in Modern Philology, x, 413. The title of John Day's Humour out 
of Breath, acted by the same company in 1607-8, is probably a 
satire on all these "humor" plays.] 



Records of the Merchant-Taylors' School, 1607. 

Whereas the company are informed that the kings moast 
excellent ma*^ with our gratious queene, and the noble prince, 
and divers^ honorable lords and others, determyne to dyne at 
our hall on the day of theleccon of m-r and wardens, therefore 
this meeting was appointed to advise and consult howe every 
thinge may be performed for the reputacon and creditt of the 
company, and to give his ma*^ best lykeing and contentment, 
&c. &c. &c. And Sir John Swynnerton is entreated to conferr 
with Mr. Beniamyn Johnson, the poet, about a speech to be 
made to welcome his ma*^ and for musique and other inventions 
which may give liking and delight to his ma*^, by reason that 
the company doubt, that their schoolem-r and schollers be not 
acquainted with such kinde of entertagnements. 

[Minutes of Court, 2y June, 1607, reprinted in The History of Merchant- 
Taylors' School, H. B. Wilson, 1814, p. 171.] 

Records of the Merchant-Taylors' School, 1607. 

The following particulars are taken from the Merchant 
Taylors' Company's Records on the occasion of King James' 
visit to the Merchant Taylors' School:- — 

At the upper end of the Hall there was set a chair of Estate, 
where his Majesty sat and viewed the Hall; and a very proper 
child, well spoken, being clothed like an Angel of gladness, with a 
taper of frankincense burning in his hand, delivered a short 
Speech, containing 18 verses, devised by Mr. Ben Jonson, which 
pleased his Majesty marvelously well. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 137-38. 



56 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Title-page, 1607. 

Ben: lonson his Volpone Or The Foxe. Printed for Thomas 
Thorppe. 1607. 

Edmund Bolton, 1607. 
Ad Utramque Academiam, De Benjamin lonsonio. 
Hie ille est primus, qui doctum drama Britannis, 
Graiorum antiqua, et Latii monimenta theatri, 
Tanquam explorator versans, foelicibus ausis 
Praebrebit: magnis coeptis, gemina astra, favete. 
Alterutra veteres contenti laude: Cothurnum hie, 
Atque pari soceum tractat Sol scenicus arte ; 
Das Volpone jocos, fletus Sejane dedisti. 
At si Jonsonias mulctatas limite musas 
Angusta plangent quiquam: Vos, dicite, contra, 
O nimium miseros quibus Anglis Anglica lingua, 
Aut non sat nota est; aut quels (seu trans mare natis) 
Haud nota omnino! Vegetet cum tempore vates, 
Mutabit patriam, fietque ipse Anglus Apollo. 

[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607, with the initials E. B. In the folio of 1616 
the poem is signed E. Bolton.] 

John Donne, 1607. 

Amicessimo & meritissimo Ben: lonson. 
Quod arte ausus es hie tua, Poeta, 
Si auderent hominum Deique juris 
Consulti, veteres sequi aemularierque, 
Omnes saperemus ad salutem. 
His sed sunt veteres araneosi ; 
Tarn nemo veterum est secutor, ut tu 
Illos quod sequeris novator audis. 
Fac tamen quod agis; tuique prima 
Libri canitie induantur hora; 
Nam chartis pueritia est neganda, 
Nascanturque senes, oportet, illi 
Libri, quis dare vis parennitatem. 
Priscis, ingenium facit, laborque 
Te parem; hos superes, ut te futuros. 



TO BEN JONSON 57 

Ex nostra vitiositate sumas, 

Qua priscos superamus, et futures. 

[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607, signed I. D.; included in the 1650 edition 
of Donne's Poems.] 

T. R., 1607. 

To my friend Mr. Johnson. 
Epi gramme. 
lonson, to tell the world what I to thee 
Am, 'tis Friend. Not to praise, nor usher forth 
Thee, or thy worke, as if it needed mee 
Send I these ri'mes to adde ought to thy worth : 
So should I flatter my selfe, and not thine; 
For there were truth on thy side, none on mine. 

To the Reader. Upon the ivorke. 
If thou dar'st bite this Fox, then read my rhymes; 
Thou guilty art of some of these foul crimes: 
Which else, are neither his nor thine, but Time's. 

If thou dost like it, well; it will imply 
Thou lik'st with judgment, or best company: 
And he, that doth not so, doth yet envy. 

The ancient forms reduced, as in this age 

The vices are ; and bare-faced on the stage : 

So boys were taught to abhor seen drunkards rage. 

[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607. The author is probably Sir Thomas Roe, 
who prefixed verses to Sejanus in 1605.] 

Francis Beaumont, 1607. 

To my dear e friend, Mr. Beniamin lonson, upon his Foxe. 
If it might stand with justice, to allow 
The swift conversion of all follies; now. 
Such is my mercy, that I could admit 
All sorts should equally approve the wit 
Of this thy even work : whose growing fame 
Shall raise thee high, and thou it, with thy name. 
And did not manners, and my love command 



58 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Me to forbear to make those understand, 

Whom thou, perhaps, hast in thy wiser doom 

Long since, firmly resolved, shall never come 

To know more than they do ; I would have shewn 

To all the world, the art, w^hich thou alone 

Hast taught our tongue, the rules of time, of place, 

And other rites, delivered with the grace 

Of comic style, which only, is far more 

Than any English stage hath known before. 

But since our subtle gallants think it good 

To like of nought that may be understood. 

Lest they should be disproved: or have, at best. 

Stomachs so raw, that nothing can digest 

But what's obscene, or barks: let us desire 

They may continue, simply to admire 

Fine cloaths, and strange words; and may live, in age. 

To see themselves ill brought upon the stage, 

And like it. Whilst thy bold and knowing Muse 

Contemns all praise, but such as thou wouldst choose. 

[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607, where the verses are signed merely F. B. 
In the folio of 1616, however, they are signed Franc. Beaumont.] 

D. D., 1607. 

To my good friend, Mr. Johnson. 
The strange new follies of this idle age, 
In strange new forms, presented on the stage 
By thy quick muse, so pleased judicious eyes; 
That th' once admired ancient comedies' 
Fashions, like clothes grown out of fashion, lay 
Locked up from use: until thy Fox' birthday, 
In an old garb, showed so much art, and wit. 
As they the laurel gave to thee, and it. 
[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607.] 

I. C, 1607. 

To the ingenious Poet. 
The Fox, that eased thee of thy modest fears. 
And earthed himself, alive, into our ears 



TO BEN JONSON 59 

Will so, in death, commend his worth, and thee 
As neither can, by praises, mended be: 
'Tis friendly folly, thou may'st thank, and blame, 
To praise a book, whose forehead bears thy name. 
Then Jonson, only this (among the rest,) 
I, ever, have observed, thy last work's best: 
Pace, gently on; thy worth, yet higher, raise; 
Till thou write best, as well as the best plays. 
[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607. The author may be Sir John Cleveland.] 

G. C, 1607. 

To his deere friend, Benjamin Johnson, his Volpone. 
Come yet more forth, Volpone, and thy chase 
Perform to all length, for thy breath will serve thee; 
The usurer shall never wear thy case: 
Men do not hunt to kill, but to preserve. 
Before the best hounds thou dost still but play; 
And for our whelps, alas, they yelp in vain. 
Thou hast no earth; thou hunt'st the Milk-white way, 
And through the Elysian fields dost make thy train, 
And as the symbol of life's guard the hare, 
That, sleeping wakes; and for her fear was safed; 
So shalt thou be advanced and made a star, 
Pole to all wits, believed in for thy craft. 
In which the scenes both mark, and mystery 
Is hit, and sounded, to please best and worst; 
To all which, since thou makest so sweet a cry, 
Take all thy best fare, and be nothing cursed. 
[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607. The author is probably George Chapman.] 

E. S., 1607. 

To my worthily-esteemed Mr. Ben: Jonson. 
Volpone now is dead indeed, and lies 
Exposed to the censure of all eyes. 
And Mouths; now he hath run his train, and shewn 
His subtle body, where he best was known; 
In both Minerva's cities: he doth yield. 
His well-formed limbs upon this open field. 



60 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Who, if they now appear so fair in sight, 

How did they, when they were endowed with spright 

Of action? In thy praise let this be read. 

The Fox will live when all his- hounds be dead. 

[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607. Gifford identifies the author with Edward 
Scory.] 

I. F., 1607. 

To the true Mr. in his Art, B. Jonson. 
Forgive thy friends; they would, but cannot praise, 
Enough the wit, art, language of thy plays: 
Forgive thy foes; they will not praise thee. Why? 
Thy fate hath thought it best, they should envy. 
Faith, for thy Fox's sake, forgive then those 
Who are nor worthy to be friends, nor foes. 
Or, for their own brave sake, let them be still 
Fools at thy mercy, and like what they will. 
[Prefixed to Volpone, 1607. The author is probably John Fletcher.] 

N[athanielJ F[ield], 1607. 

To the worthiest Maister Jonson. 
For mee, your Worke or you, most worthy Friend, 
('Mongst these un-sequall'd Men) to dare commend, 
Were damnable presumption ; whose weake flame 
. Can neither dimme, or light your full grow'n fame: 
How can my common knowledge set you forth, 
When it wants art, and Art it selfe wants worth? 
Therefore, how vaine (although by you, made one) 
Am I, to put such saucy boldnesse on 
To send you Verses? vainer, to conceive 
You do in my weake time so much beleeve, 
As, that without the forfeit of your owne 
Judgement, you'ld let my pen, with theirs, be showne: 
Unlesse, to have me touch what they do write. 
To give my lame-blind Muse sound strength, cleare sight. 
There'are, whose Playes (nere lik'd) do alwaies passe; 
That have read more, then ever written was; 



TO BEN JONSON 6l 

Will ignorant be of nothing; every place 

Th' have seene, or knowe; who, had they but the grace, 

That you do me (me thinkes) would say, your streine 

Exceeded Plautus, Horace, Virgil's vaine: 

Two points they would hit, here; give you your due. 

And tell the world how many names they knew 

Of Poets, and nought else. For, as the poore, 

To make one dinner, scrape at every doore. 

Get here a bone, there tainted meate, here bread. 

To save 'hem from the number of the dead; 

Even so, their Beggar-Muse hence steales a Scene, 

Thence begges a speach, & from most Plaies doth gleane, 

Till they have made one: which is like, being showne, 

The Prisoners-basket, into which is throwne 

All mammocks, fish, and flesh, which but to eye 

Or sent, would make all (but the neare-sterv'd) die. 

These I can now dispraise, But, how O Muse, 

Canst thou praise him, who hath more worth t' excuse 

Thy not-praysing, then thou faculty to praise? 

His name -(long since at highest) none can raise. 

Yet he, that covets worthy deedes, doth doe 'hem; 

If nought, but meanes, withstand thee to pursue 'hem; 

But, thou that wouldst ore his true praises looke. 

First, pray to understand, then read his booke, 

[This poem appears on an inserted leaf at the end of the complimentary 
poems, in the copy of the 1607 quarto of Volpone presented by 
Jonson to John Florio, now in the British Museum.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1608. 

Zorzi Giustinian, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 10 [O.S. December ji], 1608. 

The King came back to the City four days ago to keep Christ- 
mas. He and the Court are entirely absorbed in the festivities 
and in the Queen's Masque [Jonson's Masque of Beauty]. She 
is giving it great attention in order that it may come up to 
expectation. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, p. 82; cf. pp. 74, 76, and Cal- 
endar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, January 5, 1608, p. 394.] 



62 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Chamberlain, 1608. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 5, 1608. 
The Masque [Jonson's Masque of Beauty] goes forward at 
Court for Twelfth-day, tho' I doubt the New Room [the new 
Banqueting House] will be scant ready. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 162.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1608. 

Zorzi Giusiinian, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge 
and Senate, January ly \0.S. 7], 1608. 

The Court is still occupied by festivities. The Queen has 
put off her Masque [Jonsoji's Masque of Beauty] for a few days. 
This function has caused the greatest chagrin to the French 
Ambassador, who, on learning that the King intended to invite 
the Spanish Ambassador, did all he could to prevent him as he 
considered that in this undecided question of precedence, such 
an invitation would give a signal advantage to the Catholic 
Ambassador. The King has done everything to come to some 
compromise but, as yet, the French Ambassador declines to 
consent. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 83.] 

John Chamberlain, 1608. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 8, 1608. 
We had great hope to have you here this day; and then I 
would not have given my part of the Masque for many of their 
places that shall be present; for I presume that you and your 
Lady would find easily passage, being so befriended. For the 
shew [Jonson's Masque of Beauty] is put off till Sunday, by 
reason all things are not ready. Whatsoever the devise may be, 
and what success they may have in their dancing, yet you 
should be sure to have seen great riches in jewels, when one 
Lady, and that under a Baroness, is said to be furnished for 
better than a hundred thousand pounds; and the Lady Arabella 
goes beyond her; and the Queen must not come behind. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 162.] 



TO BEN JONSON 63 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1608. 

Zorzi Giustinian, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge 
and Senate, January 24 [O.S. 14], 1608. 

I must just touch on the splendour of the spectacle [Jonson's 
Masque of Beauty], which was worthy of her Majesty's greatness. 
The apparatus and the cunning of the stage machinery was a 
miracle, the abundance and beauty of the lights immense, the 
music and the dance most sumptuous. But what beggared all 
else and possibly exceeded the public expectation was the 
wealth of pearls and jewels that adorned the Queen and her 
ladies, so abundant and splendid that in every one's opinion 
no other court could have displayed such pomp and riches. So 
well composed and ordered was it all that it is evident the mind 
of her Majesty, the authoress of the whole, is gifted no less 
highly than her person. She reaped universal applause and the 
King constantly showed his approval. At the close of the 
ceremony he said to me that he intended this function to conse- 
crate the birth of the Great Hall which his predecessors had left 
him built merely in wood, but which he had converted into stone. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, p. 86; cf. Calendar of State 
Papers, Domestic, James I, January 8, 1608, p. 394.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1608. 

Zorzi Giustinian, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge 
and Senate, January 24 \0.S. 14], 1608. 

Throughout these festivities I have not had an opportunity 
to see the King and so I could not execute my commission. He 
is always away at the chase, for which the season is propitious. 
He left the day after the Masque [Jonson's Masque of Beauty], 
Before he left, however, he sent to his Ambassador in France 
instructions as to his answers should anything be said to him 
on this question of precedence. The King also closed the 
passage between Dover and Calais in order to intercept the 
message which the French Ambassador here was sending to his 
master. At a breakfast which the Queen gave to us she began 
to touch on the subject, but I took care to avoid all discussion. 
[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 87.] 



64 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Rowland Whyte, 1608. 

Letter to the Earl of Shrewsbury, January 26, 1608. 

The King is newlie gon to Tibbolles for six daies. The Spanish 

Ambassador has invited the fifteen Ladies that were of the 

Queen's Maske [Jonson's Masque of Beauty], to dinner upon 

Thursday next; and they are to bring with them whom they 

please, without Hmitacion. The great Maske [Jonson's Hue and 

Cry after Cupid] intended for my Lord Hadington's mariage is 

now the only thing thought upon at Court; by five English, 

Lord Arundell, Lord Pembroke, Lord Montgomery, Lord 

Theophilus Haward, and Sir Robert Rich; and by seven Scottes, 

the Duke of Lenox, D'Aubigny, Hay, Master of Mar (yong 

Erskine) Sanker, and Kenedie. Yt will cost them about £. 300 

a man. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 175. 
Nichols incorrectly dates the letter "February"; the correct date 
is cited by Lodge, Illustrations, p. 226.] 

Rowland Whyte, 1608. 

Letter to the Earl of Shreivsbury, January zg, 1608. 

The Masque [of Beauty] was as well performed as ever any 
was; and for the device of it, with the Speeches and Verses, 
I had sent it your Lordship ere this, if I could have gotten 
those of Ben Jonson. But no sooner had he made an end of 
these, but that he undertook a new charge for the Masque [The 
Hue and Cry] that is to be at the Viscount Hadington's Mariage. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 175; 
Nichols inadvertently gives the date as "February."] 

John Chamberlain, 1608. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, February 11, 1608. 
I can send you no perfect relation of the Marriage [of Viscount 
Hadington], nor Masque [The Hue and Cry after Cupid] on 
Tuesday; only they say all, but especially the motions were 
well performed; as Venus, with her chariot drawn by swans, 
coming in a cloud to seek her Son; who, with his companions, 
Lusus, Risus, and Jocus, and four or five wags, were dancing a 



TO BEN JONSON 65 

matachina, and acted it very antiquely, before the Twelve 
Signs, who were the Master-maskers, descended from the 
Zodiac, and played their parts more gravely, being very grace- 
fully attired. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 189; 
cf. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Jdmes I, 1608, p. 403.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1608. 

21 Aprilis 
Thomas Thorpe 

Entred for his copie under th[e h]andes of Sir George 
Bucke and Th[e] wardens. The Characters of Twoo 

Royall Masks. Invented by Ben. Johnson vj*^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 375.] 

Title-pages, 1608. 
The Characters of Two royall Masques. The one of Black- 
ness, The other of Beautie. personated By the most magnificent 
of Queenes Anne Queene of great Britaine, &c. With her honor- 
able Ladyes, 1605. and 1608. at Whitehall: and Invented by 
Ben: lonson. . . . for Thomas Thorp. 

The Description of the Masque. With the Nuptiall Songs. 
Celebrating the happy Marriage of lohn Ramsey, Viscount 
Hadington, with the Lady Elizabeth Ratcliffe, Daughter to the 
right Honor: Robert, Earle of Sussex. At Court On the Shrove- 
Tuesday at night. 1608. Devised by Ben: lonson. 

Francis Beaumont, 1608-10. 

Air. Francis Beaumonts Letter to Ben. Johnson, written before 
he and Mr. Fletcher came to London, with two of the precedent 
Comedies then not finished, which defer/d their merry meetings at 
the Mermaid. 

The sun (which doth the greatest comfort bring 
To absent friends, because the self same thing 
They know, they see, however absent) is 
Here our best hay-maker (forgive me this; 
It is our country's style:) in this warm shine 
I lie, and dream of your full Mermaid wine. 



66 AX ALLUSION -BOOK 

Oh, we have water mixed with claret lees, 
Drink apt to bring in drier heresies 
Than beer, good only for the sonnet's strain, 
With fustian metaphors to stuff the brain ; 
So mixed that, given to the thirstiest one, 
'Twill not prove alms, unless he have the stone: 
I think with one draught man's invention fades, 
Two cups had quite spoiled Homer's Iliads; 
'Tis liquor that will find out Sutcliffe's wit; 
Lie where he will, and make him write worse yet: 
Filled with such moisture, in most grievous qualms. 
Did Robert Wisdom write his singing psalms; 
And so must I do this; and yet I think 
It is a potion sent us down to drink 
By special Providence, keeps us from fights. 
Make us not laugh when we make legs to knights; 
'Tis this that keeps our minds fit for our states, 
A medicine to obey our magistrates; 
For we do live more free than you; no hate. 
No envy at one another's happy state. 
Moves us ; we are all equal every whit : 
Of land, that God gives men here is their wit. 
If we consider fully; for our best 
And gravest man will with his main house-jest 
Scarce please you; we want subtilty to do 
The city tricks, lie, hate, and flatter too: 
Here are none that can bear a painted show, 
Strike when you wunce, and then lament the blow: 
Who, like mills set the right way for to grind. 
Can make their gains alike with every- wind ; 
Only some fellows, with the subtlest pate 
Amongst us, may perchance equivocate 
At selling of a horse, and that's the most. 
Methinks the -little wit I had is lost 
Since I saw you ; for wit is like a rest 
Held up at tennis, which men do the best 
• With the best gamesters. What things have we seen 
Done at the Mermaid ! heard words that have been 



TO BEX JOXSON 67 

So nimble, and so full of subtle flame, 
As if that ever\- one from whence they came 
Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, 
And had resolved to live a fool the rest 
Of his dull life ; then where there hath been thrown 
Wit able enough to justify the town 
For three days past: wit that might warrant be 
For the whole town to talk foolishly, 
Till that were cancelled ; and when that was gone, 
We left an air behind us, which alone 
Was able to make the two next companies 
Right witty: though but downright fools, mere wise: 
When I remember this, and see that now 
The country- gentlemen begin to allow 
My wit for dn,- bobs, then I needs must cr\-, 
I see my days of ballating grow nigh; 
I can already riddle, and can sing 
Catches, sell bargains, and I fear shall bring 
Myself to speak the hardest words I find 
CK'er as oft as any, with one wind 
That takes no medicines. But one thought of thee 
Makes me remember all these things to be 
The wit of our young men, fellows that shew 
No part of good, yet utter all they know; 
Who, like trees of the gard, have growing souls. 
Only strong Destiny, which all controls, 
I hope hath left a better fate in store 
For me, thy friend, than to live ever poor, 
Banished unto this home. Fate once again 
Bring me to thee, who canst make smooth and plain 
The way of knowledge for me, and then I, 
Who have no good but in thy company, 
Protest it will my greatest comfort be 
To acknowledge all I have to flow from thee. 
Ben, when these scenes are perfect, we'll taste wine; 
I'll drink thy Muse's health, thou shalt quaff mine. 
[Following The Nice Valour in the 1647 folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 



68 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Donne, 1608.' 

Letter to Sir H[enry\ G[oodyer], November, 1608. 
The King is gone this day for Royston, and hath left the 
Queen a commandment to meditate upon a masque for Christ- 
mas, so that they grow serious about that already. 

[From the Letters of John Doiine, 165 1. The masque which resulted 
from the King's "commandment" was Jonson's Masque of Queens.] 

Sir Thomas Lake, 1608. 

Letter to the Earl of Salisbury, November 27, 1608. 
His h. commanded me further to advertise your lo. that where 
he had by my former bre-. sent your lo. a warrant for the maske 
[Jonson's Masque of Queens] w*'' a blanck but limited the same 
to a thousand pounds, he was pleased if it were not already 
filled your lo. w*** opinion of the rest of the lords mentioned in 
the warrant might enlarge it to some reasonable encrease as you 
should thinke meet. I moved his Ma*^ thereuppon that if it 
pleased him there might be a new warrant made w^'' out limita- 
tion of a somme but left to such bylz as by your Lis should be 
signed and allowed His Ma*^ seamed to like it well and if it 
please your lo. to think it a fitt way it may be done. 

[Cited by SulHvan, Cotirt Masques of James I, p. 201, but wrongly 
dated 1607; cf. Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 
November 27, 1608, p. 470, and December I, 1608, p. 472.] 

Warrant, 1608. 

Warrant to issue to the Earl of Suffolk, Lord Chamberlain, 
and the Earl of Worcester, Master of the Horse, such sums as 
shall be requisite for the preparation of a masque [Jonson's 
Masque of Queens], to be given by the Queen at Christmas. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic Series, James I, December i, 1608, 
p. 472. An itemized bill for materials used in this masque may 
be found in Paul Reyher, Les Masques Anglais, pp. 507-08, printed 
from the Exchequer of Receipt, Miscellanea, 343, 344, signed 
by Suffolk and Worcester.] 

Audit Ofl&ce Account, 1609. 

To Sir Richardo Coningesbye . . . for makeinge readie the 
banquettinge house at Whitehall for the maske [Jonson's Masque 



TO BEN JONSON 69 

of Queens] by the space of fower dales menss Januarii 1608, 
Ixxviij'' viii'^. 

[Audit Office, Declared Accounts, Treasurer of the Chamber, B. 389, R. 46.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1609. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January g [O.S. Dec. 30], i6og. 

From Sunday last on which day they kept Christmas, till 
now the Court has been entirely taken up with balls and comedies. 
The Queen is deeply engaged in preparing a Masque of Ladies 
[Jonson's Masque of Queens] to wind up with. It will be given 
to-day week. She is sparing no expense to make it as fine as 
possible. . . . The Spanish and Flemish Ambassadors are now 
manoeuvring to be invited to the Masque. They declare it 
would be a slight to the Embassy-Extraordinary to be left out. 
On the other hand the French Ambassador, who was omitted 
last year, which produced some sharp words from his Most 
Christian Majesty, now declares that he will withdraw from 
Court if he is not invited. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 212.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1609. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 15 [O.S. 5], i6og. 

As the Ambassadors of Spain and the Archdukes contine to 
insist on being invited to the Masque [Jonson's Masque of 
Queens], the Court has announced that their Majestys wish the 
French Ambassador and myself to be present. We were in- 
formed of this by many of those who have the King's ear. I hear 
that his Majesty was anxious to dismiss the Ambassador-Extra- 
ordinary and told the Queen so, who was quite willing; but the 
Ambassador neither asks to take leave nor shows any signs 
of going, and so his Majesty has put off the Masque, which 
ought to have been given to-morrow, to the 12th of February, 
the Feast of the Purification. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 219; cf. Nichols, Progresses of 
King James, ii, 214.] 



70 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1609. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 22 \0.S. 12], i6og. 

The Ambassador-Extraordinary stays on here; he says he 
will not leave till he has received letters from Spain. . . . It is 
thought that he is staying on to compel the King to invite 
him to her Majesty's Masque [Jonson's Masque of Queens], which 
in consequence of this may be put off again. All the same the 
Queen holds daily rehearsals and trials of the machinery. Mean- 
time the Spanish Ambassador-in-ordinary makes vigorous efforts 
to be invited; he puts in motion all his supporters and uses the 
Embassy-Extraordinary as a pretext. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 222.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1609. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, February ij [O.S. j], i6og. 

Thursday was appointed for the Queen's Masque [Jonson's 
Masque of Queens]. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi, 231; the remainder of this long 
letter, written in cipher, is devoted to the quarrels of the am- 
bassadors over precedence at the masque; cf. ibid., pp. 233, 236, 
and 253.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1609. 

26*° Januarij 

Henry Walleys 

Richard Bonion 

Entred for their Copye under th[e hjandes of master 
Segar deputy to Sir George Bucke and of th[e] wardens 
a booke called, The case is altered vj'^ 

22do Februarij 

Richard Bonion 

Henry Walley 

Entred for their Copy under th[e hjandes of master 
Segar and Th' wardens a booke called. The maske of 
Queenes Celebrated, done by Beniamin Johnson vj'^ 



TO BEN JONSON 7 1 

20 JuHj 

Henry Walley 

Richard Bonyon 

Bartholomew 

Sutton 

Entred for their copie by direction of master Waterson 
warden, a booke called the case is altered whiche was 
Entred for H[enry] Walley and Richard Bonyon the 

26 of January Last vj'^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 400, 402, 416.] 

Title-pages, 1609. 
Ben: lonson, his Case is Altered. As it hath beene sundry 
times Acted by the Children of the Blacke-friers. At London, 
Printed for Bartholomew Sutton, . . . 1609. 

A Pleasant Comedy, called: The Case is Altered. As it hath 
beene sundry times acted by the children of the Black-friers. 
Written by Ben. lonson. London, printed for Bartholomew 
Sutton, and William Barrenger, . . . 1609. [The same sheets, 
issued with a different title-page.] 

A Pleasant Comedy, called: The Case is Altered. As it hath 
beene sundry times acted by the children of the Black-friers. 
London, Printed for Bartholomew Sutton, and William Bar- 
renger, . . . 1609. [Another issue of the same sheets, with a 
title-page identical with the preceding issue save that Jonson's 
name as the author has been omitted.] 

The Masque of Queenes Celebrated From the House of Fame : 
By the most absolute in all State, And Titles. Anne Queene 
of Great Britaine, &c. With her Honourable Ladies. At White 
Hall, Feb. 2. 1609. Written by Ben: lonson. . . . N. Okes for 
R. Bonian and H. Wally . . . 1609. 

[Jonson's description of this masque should be supplemented by reading 
Harleian MS. 6947, f. 143, printed in Paul Reyher's Les Masques 
Anglais, p. 506.] 

Edmund Bolton, 1610. 

The Chaise of English. — As for example, language & style (the 
apparell of matter) hee who would penn our affairs in English, 



72 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

and compose unto us an entire body of them, ought to have a 
singuler care ther of. For albeit our tongue hath not received 
dialects, or accentuall notes as the Greeke, nor any certaine or 
established rule either of gramer or true writing, is notwith- 
standing very copious, and fewe there be who have the most 
proper graces thereof, In which the rule cannot be variable: 
For as much as the people's judgments are uncertaine, the books 
also out of which wee gather the most warrantable English are 
not many to my remembrance, of which, in regard they require a 
p-ticular and curious tract, I forbeare to speake at this present. 
But among the cheife, or rather the cheife, are in my opinion 
these. 

S"" Thomas Moore's works some fewe outworne or antiquated 

words exepted. 

* * * * 

George Chapmans first seaven books of Iliades. 

Samuell Danyell. 

Michael Drayton his Heroicall Epistles of England. 

Marlowe his excellent fragment of Hero and Leander. 
• Shakespere, M'' Francis Beamont, & innumerable other writers 
for the stage, and presse tenderly to be used in this Argument. 

Southwell, Parsons, & some fewe other of that sort. 

Henry Constable a rare gentleman. 

Richard [i. e. Thomas] earle of Dorset, the myrrour of Magis- 
trates, and his tragedies of Gorboduck. 

Henry earle of Surrey and S*^ Thomas Wyatt of old. 

Henry earle of Northampton, sonne of that Surrey, for some 
fewe things, a man otherwise too exuberent and wordfuU. 

Grevile lo. Brooke in his impious Mustapha. 

Beniamin Johnson. S'' Henry Wotton. 

The learned and truely noble S"' John Beaumont barronet in 

all his &c.; and late dictionaries, some publiq: speaches, some 

sermons, &c. 

[Concerning Historicall language and Style. An emendation of the best 
Authors for written English. Rawlinson MSS, Miscel. i, p. 13. 
Reproduced in Haslewood's Ancient Critical Essays upon English 
Poets and Poesy, 1815, ii, 246-47.] 



TO BEN JONSON 73 

Deposition, 1610. 

Beniamin Johnson of the precinct of the blackfreiers London 
gent, aged 37 yeres or theraboutes sworne &c. 

[This deposition, dated May 5, 1610, is cited by C. W. Wallace, Eng- 
lische Studien, xliii, 369, note 2. It is of importance for deter- 
mining the date of Jonson's birth.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1610. 

20'"° Septembris 

John Browne 

John Busby 

Entred for their Copye under th[e hjandes of Sir 
George Bucke and master Waterson for master warden 
Leake, A booke called, Epicoene or the silent woman 
by Ben: Johnson vj'^ 

3° Octobris 
Walter Burre 

Entred for his Copy under th[e h]andes of Sir George 
Bucke and Th 'wardens, a Comoedy called. The Alchy- 
mist made by Ben: Johnson vj*^ 

Walter Burre 

Entred for his Copyes by assignemente from Thomas 
Thorpe and with the consente of Th'wardens under 
their handes, 2 bookes th[e] one called, Seiamis his 

fall, th[e] other, Vulpone or the ffoxe xij*^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 444, 445.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1610. 

Marc'' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in Englajtd, to the 
Doge and Senate, December 2 \0.S. November 22], 1610. 

The King is pleased that at the approaching Christmas she 
[the Queen] should give another Masque of Ladies [Jonson's 
Love Freed]; it will precede the Prince's Masque, and neither 
will be so costly as last year's; which, to say sooth were exces- 
sively costly. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xii, 86.] 



74 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John More, 1610. 

Letter to Sir Ralph Winwood, December 15, 16 10. 
I think my Lord will be in some paine even to furnish the 
expence of the approaching Feast; yet doth the Prince make 
but one Masque [Jonson's Masque of Oberon], and the Queen 
but two [Jonson's Love Freed from Ignorance and Folly and 
Love Restored], which doth cost her Majesty but £. 600. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, ii, 372.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1610. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, December 31 [O.S. 21], 1610. 

Their Majesties are awaiting the Marshall de Laverdin, who 
is coming for the swearing of the treaty with France. He can- 
not be far away from the sea. He will be nobly entertained. 
. . . The Masques which the Queen and Prince are preparing 
[Jonson's Love Freed from Ignorance and Oberon] are particularly 
directed to honour this mission. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xi'i, loi.] 

Edmund Howes, 161 1. 
Uppon New-yeeres night, the Prince of Wales being accom- 
panyed with twelve others, viz. two Earles, three Barons, five 
Knights, and two Esquiers, they performed a very stately 
Maske [Jonson's Masque of Oberon], in which was an excellent 
Sceane, ingenious speeches, rare songs, and great varietie of most 
delicate Musique, in the beautifull roome at Whitehall which 
roome is generally called the Banqueting house. 
[Annates, or A Generall Chronicle, 163 1, p. 999.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 161 1. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 14 [O.S. 4], 1611. 

On Tuesday the Prince gave his Masque [Oberon], which was 
very beautiful throughout, very decorative, but most remarkable 
for the grace of the Prince's every movement. . . . The Queen, 



TO BEN JONSON 75 

next whom I sat, said that on Sunday next she intended to give 
her Masque, and she hoped the King would invite me to it. 
[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xii, io6.] 

Accounts of Prince Henry, 1611. 
The Prynces Maske. 
Payde to sondrye persons for the chardges of a Maske pre- 
sented by the Prince before the Kinges ma*'*^ on Newyeres day at 

night beinge the first of Januarie 1610 [161 1]. viz. 

li XX s. d. 

To Mercers cciiijix viij v 

XX 

Sylkemen cciiijxviij xv vj 

Haberdashers Ixxiiij viij viij 

XX 

Embroderers iiijix xvj ix 

Girdelers and others for skarfes, beltes and 

gloves Ixxiiij viij 

Hosyers for silke stockinges, poyntes and 

rybbons xlix xvj 

Cutler vij iiij 

Tyrewoman xlij vj 

Taylors cxliij xiij vj 

Shoemaker vj x 

To Inlgoe Jones deyser for the saide Maske . xvj 

XX 

In all M.iiijxij vj x 

[From The Accompte of the Money Expended by Sir David Murray Kt. 
as Reaper of the Privie Purse to the late Noble Prynce Henry, Prynce 
of Wales, reprinted by Peter Cunningham in Extracts from the 
Accounts of the Revels at Court, 1842, pp. viii-ix. The account 
relates to Jonson's Oberon, the Fairy Prince: A Masque of Prince 
Henry's.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 161 1. 

Marc' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 21 \0.S. ii\, 1611. 

The Queen's Masque [Jonson's Love Freed from Ignorance and 
Folly] is put ofT to the Feast of the Purification; either because 



76 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

the stage machinery is not in order or because their Majesties 
thought it well to let the Marshall [de Laverdin] depart first. 
[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xii, no.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1611. 

Marc'' Antonio Correr, Venetian Ambassador in England, to 
the Doge and Senate, February 11 [O.S. i], 161 1. 

The Marshall [de Laverdin] is hurrying his departure, urged, 
as he says, by couriers express; nothing keeps him but the 
Queen's Masque [Jonson's Love Freed], which takes place the 
day after to-morrow. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, -^n, 115.] 

Exchequer Accounts, 1611. 
1610 

The bill of account of the hole charges of the Queen'' s 
Ma^^ Maske at Chrismas 16 10. 
Inprimis, to Mr. Inigo Johnes, as apeareth by his byll, 

2381i. i6s. lod. 
Item, to Mr. Confesse upon his bill for the 12 fooles. . l6li. 6s. 6d. 
Item, to his taylour for making the suites, as apeareth by his 

bill , 8H. 

Item, for 128 yeardes of fustian to lyne theire coates, att lod. the 

yeard 5li. 6s. 8d. 

Item, for 87 ownces of coper lace, att i8d. the ownce, and 6 

ownces at 2od. the ownce, used for the 11 preestes gowndes 

and hoodes w*^ shues and scarfTes 7li. 4d. 

Item, for 24 yeardes of riband to beare their lutes, att I2d. the 

yeard, and one dosen att 3d. and half a dosen at 2d. the 

yeard ili. 8s. 

Item, to the taylour for making those gowndes and hoodes. . .4li. 
Item, to the 11 preestes to buy their silke stockinges and shoues, 

att 2li. a peece 22li, 

Item, for 3 yeardes of flesh collored satten for Cupides coate and 

hose att 14s. the yeard 2li. 2s. 

Item, for 26 yeardes of callico to lyne the preestes hoodes, att 

2od. the yeard 2li. 3s. 4d. 



TO BEN JONSON . 77 

Item, to the taylor for making and furnishing of Cupides suite 

w*'' lace and puffs ili. los. 

Summa 3o81i. 14s. 3d. 

Rewardes to the persons imployed in the maske. 

Inprimis, to Mr. Benjamin Johnson for his invention 40H. 

Item, to Mr. Inigo Johnes for his paynes and invention. . . .4on. 

Item, to Mr. Alfonso for making the songes 2oli. 

Item, to Mr. Johnson for setting the songes to the lutes 5li. 

Item, to Thomas Lupo for setting the dances to the violens. -Sli. 

Item, to Mr. Confesse for teachinge all the dances 5oli. 

To Mr. Bochan for teaching the ladies the footing of 2 danses, 

2oli. 
To the 12 musitions that were preestes that songe and played, 

24li. 
Item, to the 12 other lutes that suplied, and w*'' fluites. . . .I2li. 
Item, to the 10 violens that contynualy practized to the Queene, 

2oli. 

Item, to 4 more that were added at the Maske 4li. 

Item, to 15 musitions that played to the pages and fooles. .2oli. 

Item, to 13 hoboyes and sackbuttes loli. 

Item, to 5 boyes, that is, 3 graces, sphynkes, and cupid . . . .loli. 

Item, to the 12 fooles that danced I2li. 

Summa 292li. 

Summa totalis is 6ooli. 14s. 3d. 

Whereof ther is receaved 40oli. 

So the Wardrobe being not yet discharged ther remayns to be 
allowed 2ooli. 14s. 3d. 

There was receaved from the Kinges Wardrobe of S'' Roger 
Aston — ■ 
Inprimis, of severall coUered taffite for 12 fooles, and 3 graces, 

52 ells, and a q^'ter att 17s. the elle 44li. 8s. 3d. 

Item, of crimson tafhte for the ii preestes amounting to 55 els 

and Mr. Confesse his coate being in the number, at 17s. the 

elle 46H- 15s. 



78 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Item, of watched satten for the preestes hoodes and gorgettes, 
26 yeardes 3 quarters, att 15s. the yeard 19H. 19s. gd. 

Item, of taffite sarsnett for scarffes to girde their gowndes, 

beinge 18 ells att 8s. the ell 7H. 4s. 

Summa 1 18H. 7s. 

Memorandum, that this last summe of ii81i. 7s. is to be allowed 

to S"" Roger Aston, Knight, over and above the other foresayd 

summe of 6ooli. 14s. 3d. 

T. Sufifolke. E. Worcester. 

[From a document in the Exchequer Papers, reprinted from the Pro- 
ceedings of the Society of Antiquaries of London, 1859-61, second 
series, i, 31. The bill relates to Jonson's masque, Loi'e Freed from 
Ignorance and Folly.] 

Thomas Coryat, 161 1. 

I heard in Venice that a certaine Italian Poet called Jacobus 
Sannazarius had a hundred crownes bestowed upon him by the 
Senate of Venice for each of these verses following. I would to 
God my Poeticall friend Mr. Benjamin Johnson were so well 
rewarded for his Poems here in England, seeing he hath made 
many as good verses (in my opinion) as these of Sannazarius. 

[Coryat's Crudities, 161 1, p. 159. Cf. the entry under "Robert Lovelace* 
before 1658."] 

Title-page, 161 1. 
Catiline his Conspiracy. Written by Ben: lonson. London, 
Printed for Walter Burre, . . . 1611. 

Francis Beaumont, 161 1. 

To my Friend, Master Ben Jonson, Upon His Catiline. 
If thou had'st itched after the wild applause 
Of common people, and had'st made thy laws 
In writing, such, as catched at present voice, 
I should commend the thing but not thy choice. 
But thou hast squared thy rules by what is good. 
And art three ages, yet, from understood; 
And (I dare say) in it there lies much wit 
Lost, till the readers can grow up to it. 



TO BEN JONSON 79 

Which they can ne'er out-grow, to find it ill, 
But must fall back again, or like it still. 
[Prefixed to Catiline, 161 1.] 

John Fletcher, 161 1. 

To my Worthy Friend, Ben Jonson, on his Catiline. 
He, that dares wrong this play, it should appear 
Dares utter more than other men dare hear, 
That have their wits about them: yet such men. 
Dear friend, must see your book, and read; and then 
Out of their learned ignorance, cry ill. 
And lay you by, calling for mad Pasquil, 
Or Green's dear Groatsworth, or Tom Coryate, 
Or the new Lexicon, with the errant pate: 
And pick away, from all these several ends. 
And dirty ones, to make their as-wise friends 
Believe they are translators. Of this, pity! 
There is a great plague hanging o'er the city; 
Unless she purge her judgment presently. 
But, O thou happy man, that must not die, 
As these things shall; leaving no more behind 
But a thin memory, like a passing wind 
That blows, and is forgotten, ere they are cold. 
Thy labours shall outlive thee; and, like gold 
Stampt for continuance, shall be current where 
There is a sun, a people, or a year. 
[Prefixed to Catiline, 161 1.] 

Nathaniel Field, 161 1. 

To his Worthy and Beloved Friend, Master Ben Jonson, 
on his Catiline. 
Had the great thoughts of Catiline been good, 
The memory of his name, stream of his blood. 
His plots past into acts (which would have turned 
His infamy to fame, though Rome had burned), 
Had not begot him equal grace with men, 
As this, that he is writ by such a pen : 



80 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Whose inspirations, if great Rome had had, 
Her good things had been bettered, and her bad 
Undone; the first for joy, the last for fear, 
That such a Muse should spread them to our ear. 
But woe to us then ! for thy laureat brow 
If Rome enjoyed had, we had wanted now. 
But in this age, where jigs and dances move, 
How few there are that this pure work approve. 
Yet better than I rail at, thou canst scorn 
Censures that die ere they be thoroughly born. 
Each subject, thou, still thee each subject raises, 
And whosoe'er thy book, himself dispraises. 
[Prefixed to Catitiue, 1611.] 

John Davies of Hereford, 161 1. 

Some burden me, sith I oppresse the Stage, 

With all the grosse Abuses of this Age, 

And presse mee after, that the World may see 

(As in a soiled Glasse) her selfe in mee. 

Where each man /;/, and out ofs hitvior pries 

l^pon himsclfe; and laughs untill he cries. 

Untruss'uig humerous Poets, and such Stuffe 

(As might put plainest Pacience in a Ruffe) 

I shew men : so, they see in mee and Elues 

Themselues scornd, and their Scorners scorne themselves. 

[Papers Complaint, 161 1; The Complete Works of John Davies, ed. A. B. 
Grosart, 1878, ii, 76.] 

A. H., 1611. 

A gencrall Folly reigneth, and harsh Fate 

Hath made the World it selfe insatiate: 

It hugges these Monsters and deformed things. 

Better than what lonson or Drayton sings. 

[A Continued Inquisition against Paper-Persecutors, by A. H., affixed 
to John Davies's Papers Complaint, 161 1; The Complete ]]'orks 
of John Davies, ed. A. B. Grosart, 1878, ii, 80.] 



TO BEN JOXSON 8 1 

John Davies of Hereford, about 1611. 

To my well accomplish' d friend Mr. Ben Johnson. 
I love thy parts, so, must I love thy whole: 
Then, still be whole in thy beloved parts: 
Th'art sound in body: but, some say any soule 
Enuy doth ulcer: yet corrupted hearts 
Such censurers may have: but, if thou bee 
An envious soule, would thou could'st envy niee. 
But (ah!) I feare my vertues are too darke 
For Enuie's shadow, from so bright a sparke. 
[The Scourge of Folly, n. rl., about 1611, lipiK- I5^>-I 

The Stationers' Registers, 1612. 

15 Mail! 
Joseph Stepneth 

Entered for his Copy under th' [h]andes of master 
Nydd and Th[e] wardens, A booke called Ben Johnson 
his Epigrams vj'' 

28. Septembris 
Walter Burre 

F)ntred for his copie by assignement from John Browne 
and consent of the Wardens in full Court holden 
this Day. A booke called the Commodye of ' the silent 

Woman ' vj'^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 485, 498.] 

Title-page, 161 2? 

The Sihnt Woman, a Comedie, by Ben Jonson. . . . for 
Walter Burre, 1612. 

[No copy of a 1612 quarto of this play is now known, yet it seems 
probable that the play was printed in this year. It was entered 
in the Stationers' Registers on September 20, 1610, and on Sep- 
tember 28, 1612, was transferred to Walter Burre, presumably 
for the edition conjecturally described above. William Gifford 
positively states that he had seen a quarto of 1612. Its existence 
is indicated by Francis Beaumont's commendatory poem (see the 
following entry), written before Beaumont's death in 1616, and 
included in the Jonson folio of 1616, which reprints certain com- 
mendatory poems from earlier quartos.] 



82 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Francis Beaumont, 1612? 

On the Silent Woman. 
Hear, you bad writers, and though you not see, 
I will inform you where you happy be: 
Provide the most malicious thoughts you can, 
And bend them all against some private man, 
To bring him, not his vices, on the stage; 
Your envy shall be clad in some poor rage, 
And your expressing of him shall be such. 
That he himself shall think he hath no touch. 
Where he that strongly writes, although he mean 
To scourge but vices in a laboured scene, 
Yet private faults shall be so well exprest. 
As men do act 'em, that each private breast. 
That finds these errors in itself, shall say. 
He meant me, not my vices, in the play. 
[Prefixed to The Silent Woman, which apparently was printed in 161 2. 

Title-page, 161 2. 

The Alchemist. Written by Ben. lonson. . . . London, 
Printed by Thomas Snodham, for Walter Burre, and are to be 
sold by lohn Stepneth, . . . 16 12. 

George Lucy, 161 2. 

To my Friend Mr. Ben Jonson, Upon His Alchemist. 

A master, read in flattery's great skill, 

Could not pass truth, though he would force his will, 

By praising this too much, to get more praise 

In his art, than you out of yours do raise. 

Nor can full truth be uttered of your worth, 

Unless you your own praises do set forth : 

None else can write so skilfully, to shew 

Your praise: Ages shall pay, yet still must owe. 

All I dare say, is, you have written well; 

In what exceeding height, I dare not tell, 

[Prefixed to The Alchemist, 1612.] 



TO BEN JONSON 83 

John Webster, 1612. 

To the Reader. 
I have ever truly cherisht my good opinion of other mens 
worthy labours; especially of that full and haightned stile of 
Maister Chapman, the labor'd and understanding workes of 
Maister Johnson, the no lesse worthy composures of both worth- 
ily excellent Maister Beaumont, & Maister Fletcher, and lastly 
(without wrong last to be named) the right happy and copious 
industry of M. Shake-speare, M. Decker, & M. Heywood; wish- 
ing what I write may be read by their light; protesting that, in 
the strength of mine owne judgement, I know them so worthy, 
that though I rest silent in my owne worke, yet to most 
of theirs I dare (without flattery) fix that of Martiall: non norunt 
haec monumenta mori. 

[The White Devil, 161 2.] 

S. R., 1612. 

In Vulponem. 

The Fox is earthed now in the ground. 

Who living, fear'd not home nor hound. 

That kept the Huntsmen at a bay, 

Before their faces ceaz'd his prey. 

Of whose successeful thriving wit, 

Bookes have beene made, and playes beene writ, 

That prey'd on Mallard, Plover, Ducke, 

And ever Scap'd by craft or lucke : 

Yet now hee's gone: what though behinde. 

Are Cubbes too many of his kinde? 

Who whilst by death hee's kept away. 

Will make a purchase of his prey. 

And when the old he left is gone. 

Will finde out more to worke upon. 

In Skinners shops, though some appeare, 

Tis long before the last comes there. 

[The Curlaine- Drawer of the World, 1612; reprinted in A. B. Grosart, 
Unique or Very Rare Books, 1876, iii, 58.] 



84 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Taylor, 1612. 

To my deere respected friend, Maister Benjamin Johnson. 

Thou canst not dye for though the stroake of death 

Deprives the world of thy worst earthly part : 

Yet when thy corps hath banished thy breath, 

Thy living Muse shall still declare thy Art. 

The fatall Sisters and the blessed Graces, 

Were all thy friends at thy Nativitie : 

And in thy mind the Muses tooke their places. 

Adoring thee with rare capacitie. 

x^nd all the Worthies of this worthy Land, 

Admires thy wondrous all-admired worth, 

Then how should I that cannot understand 

Thy worth, thy worthy worthinesse set forth? 

Yet beare the boldnesse of the honest Sculler, 

Whose worthlesse praise can fill thy praise no fuller. 

[The Sculler, 1612, reprinted in 1614 as Taylors Water-Worke, and in- 
cluded in tlie Folio of 1630; see the Spenser Society's reprint of the 
Folio, p. 498.] 

Treasurer's Accounts, 1613. 

Item, paid to the said John Hemings, 20th May, 1613, for 
presenting six several plays, viz., one play called A bad beginning 
makes a good ending; one other, called The Captain; one The 
Alchemist; one other Cardano; one other Hotspur; one other 
Benedicite and Bettris; all played in the time of this account. 
Paid 40 pounds, and by way of his Majesty's reward 20 pounds 
more £ 60. 

[Extract from the Accounts of Lord Harrington, Treasurer of the Chamber 
to King James I; in The Shakespeare Society's Papers, 1845, ii, 125.] 

Henry Parrott, 1613. 

Cignus per plumas Anser. 
Put off thy buskins, Sophocles the great. 

And mortar tread with thy disdained shanks. 
Thou thinkst thy skill hath done a wondrous feat, 

For which the world should give thee many thanks. 



TO BEN JONSON 85 

Alas! it seems thy feathers are but loose 
Pluckt from a swan, and set upon a goose. 
[Laquei Ridiculosi, or Springes for Woodcocks, 1613, Epigram 163.] • 

Robert Daborne, 1613. 

Letter to Philip Henslowe, August, i6ij. 
I pray s'' let y*^ boy giv order this night to the. stage keep to 
set up bills agst munday for Eastward hoe & one wendsday the 
New play. 

[Henslmve Papers, ed. W. W. Greg, 1907, p. 70.] 

Robert Daborne, 1613. 

Letter to Philip Henslowe, November ij, 161 j. 
S"" y"" man was w**^ me, whoe found me wrighting the last 
scean, which I had thought to have brought y" to night, but it 
will be late ear I can doe it; & being satterday night, my occa- 
tion urges me to request y" spare me x 5. more, & for y'' mony, 
if y" please not to stay till Johnsons play [Bartholomew Fair] be 
playd, the Kings men hav bin very earnest w**' me to pay y" 
in y"" mony for y'' curtesy, whearin y" shall have 30 s. proffit w*'' 
many thanks. . . . 

Sater No 13 ever at y"" comand 

16 1 3 Rob: Daborne 

[Henslowe Papers, ed. W. W. Greg, 1907, p. 78.] 

John Chamberlain, 1613. 

Letter to Airs. Alice Carleton, December jo, 1613. 
I hear little or no commendation of the Masque [Jonson's 
Irish Masque] made by the Lords that night, either for device or 
dancing, only it was rich and costly. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, ii, 725.] 

John Chamberlain, 1614. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 5, 1614. ■ 
The loftie maskers were so well liked at court the last week 
that they were appointed to performe yt [The Irish Masque] 



86 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

again on monday yet theyre devise (w^^ was a enimicall imitation 
of t[he] Irish) was not so pleasing to many, w"'' thincke [this] 
no time (as the case stands) to exasperat that nat[ion] by making 
it ridiculous. 

[State Papers, Domestic Series, James I, Ixxvi, no. 2. For payments 
for this masque, see Ixxv, nos. 32, 33; cf. also no. 53. See Howes's 
Continuation of Stow's Annates, 1631, p. 1005.] 

John Selden, 1614. 
I presume I have sufficiently manifested the contrarie, and 
answerd their urged Autorities, producing also one out of Euri- 
pides his Orestes, seeming stranger against my part then anie 
other: which, when I was to use, and having not at hand the 
Scholiast ... I went, for this purpose, to see it in the well- 
furnisht Librarie of my beloved friend that singular Poet M. 
Ben: lonson, whose speciall Worth in Literature, accurat Judg- 
ment, and Performance, known only to that Few which are truly 
able to know him, hath had from me, ever since I began to 
learn, an increasing admiration. 

[Titles of Honor, 1614, Preface, sig. d, recto.] 

Treasurer's Accounts, 1614. 

To Joseph Taylor for himselfe and the reste of his fellowes 

servauntes to the Lady Eliz her grace upon the Councells War- 

raunt dated at Whitehall 21 June 16 14 for presenting before his 

Ma*^ a Comedy called Eastward Howe on the xxvth of January 

last past — vj''. xiij^ iiij<^. and by way of his Ma*^ reward Ixvj*. 

viij''. In all y^'\ 

[From the Office Books of the Treasurers of the Chamber; reproduced in 
Extracts from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, by Peter Cunning- 
ham, 1842, p. xliv.] 

John Chamberlain, 1614. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, December i, 16 14. 
And yet for all this penurious world we speake of a maske 
[Jonson's Mercury Vindicated] this Christmas toward w*^*" the 
K. geves 1500 £. the principall motive whereof is thought to be 
the gracing of younge Villers and to bring him on the stage. 
[State Papers, Domestic, James I, Ixxviii, no. 65.] 



TO BEN JONSON 87 

Pipe Office Records, 1614-15. 

Canvas for the Boothes and other necessaries for a play called 
Bartholmewe Faire. 

[Pipe Office, 2805 (1614-1615); reproduced in Reyher's Les Masqties 
Anglais, 1909, p. 382, note 2.] 

John Chamberlain, 16 15. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 5, 161^. 
To-morrow night there is a Masque [Jonson's Mercury Vindi- 
cated] at Court; but the common voice and preparations promise 
so little, that it breeds no great expectation. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 27.] 

John Finett, 161 5. 

The 5. of January 16 14. The Earl of Sommerset . . . gave 
me directions to invite the Spanish and the Venetian [Ambassa- 
dors] ... to a Maske of Gentlemen [Jonson's Mercury Vindi- 
cated] set forth at the charge of his Majesty, and to come at an 
houre, about six in the Evening to a Supper that should be pre- 
pared for them in the Councel Chamber. They both . . . 
accepted the Invitation, and came the next day at the time 
appointed. A little before Supper, the Spanish Ambassador 
taking me aside, desired me to deale freely with him, & to tel 
him whether Sir Noell Caron, the States Ambassador were in- 
vited, and if invited, what place was intended him, whether in 
publique neere his Majesty, or in private in some Corner of the 
Roome? [Following a heated discussion which resulted later 
from the presence of the Ambassador from Holland at the 
masque, the Spaniard finally withdrew followed by the latter, 
who was requested by James to leave, in order that it might not 
be said that preference was given Holland over Spain. The 
withdrawal of these two left the Venetian Ambassador alone in 
the place of honor.] , . . The Venetian Ambassador as soone as 
the Spanish was departed, was conducted by me into the second 
Roome from the privie Gallerie, and there attending till his 
Majesty and the Queene came, went along with them, and was 
seated on the left hand of the King, beneath the Queene, and the 



88 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Prince on the right. At the same time the Agent of Florence 
. . . supped also in the Councell Chamber, and followed the 
King to the Maske with the Venetian, but having been ordained 
his seate in one of the Galleries, he intreated me to moove the 
Lord Chamberlaine, that (as he understood the great Duke his 
Masters Agent, and the Duke of Savoyes had been) he might 
be placed among the Lords, which was assented to, and he was 
placed . . . beneath the lowest Baron the Lord Mordant, and 
above Sir Thomas Howard second Son to the Lord Treasurer. 
[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 19-24.] 

John Chamberlain, 161 5. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 12, i6iS- 
The only matter I can advertise since I wrote the last week is 
the success of the masque [Jonson's Mercury Vindicated] on 
Twelfth-night, which was so well liked and applauded that the 
king had it represented again the Sunday night after, in the very 
same manner, though neither in device nor show was there any- 
thing extraordinary, but only excellent dancing, the choice being 
made of the best, both English and Scots. 

[The Court and Times of James the First, 1849, i, 356. The remainder 
of this long letter concerns the quarrel of the ambassadors.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 161 5. 

Antonio Foscarini, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the 
Doge and Senate, January 2j [O.S. 13], 1615. 

After I had written my last, I was invited by the king to the 
masque [Mercury Vindicated] which was danced on the following 
evening in the great hall. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xiii, 317.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1615. 

20 Januarij 1614. 
William Stansbye 

Entred for his Coppie under the handes of master 
Tavernour and both the wardens Certayne Masques 
at the Court never yet printed written by Ben Johnson . vj'^ 
[Arber's Transcript, iii, 562.] 



TO BEN JONSON 89 

John Selden, 1615. 

Letter to Ben Jonson, February 28, 1615. 

. . . With regard to what the Greeks and Latins have of 

Adargatis, Derceto, Atargata, Derce (all one name) &c. you 

best know, being most conversant in the recondite parts of 

human learning; ... [he concludes, after a variety of extracts 

from the Hebrew, Syriac, Greek, &c. :] In the connexion of these 

no vulgar observations, if they had been to a common learned 

reader, there had been often room for divers pieces of theology 

dispersed in Latin and Greek authors, and fathers of the Church, 

but your own most choice and able store cannot but furnish you 

with whatever is fit that way to be thought. Whatever I have 

here collected, I consecrate to your love, and end with hope of 

your instructing judgment. 

[An extract from a long letter of eight folio pages; from the Gifford- 
Cunningham ed. of Jonson, 1871, i, xxxviii.] 

Treasurer's Accounts, 1615. 

To Nathan Feilde in the behalfe of himselfe and the rest of 

his fellows upon the Lord Chamberleynes Warraunt dated ii 

June 16 1 5 for presenting a playe called Bartholomews Fayre 

before his Ma*''^ on the first of November last past x^'. 

[From the Office Books of the Treasurers of the Chamber; in Extracts 
from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, by Peter Cunningham, 
1842, p. xliv.] 

Thomas Coryat, 1615. 

A Letter from the Court of the Great Mogul, resident at the Towne 
of Asmere in the Eastern India, on Michaelmas day. Anno 1615. 

Pray remember my commendations with all respect to M. 
Williams the goldsmith and his wife; and to Beniamin lohnson, 
and to reade this letter to them both. . . . 

[Thomas Coriate Traveller for the English Wits, 1616, sig. L 7, verso.] 

Thomas Coryat, 1615. 

To the High Seneschall of the Right Worshipfull Fraternitie of 
Sireniacall Gentlemen, that meete the first Friday of every moneth, 



90 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

at the signe of the Mermaid in Bread-street in London: From the 
Court of the Great Mogoll, resident. at the Towne of Asmere, in the 
Easterne-India. November 8, i6i$. 

Pray remember the recommendations of my dutifull respect; 
to all those whose names I have heere expressed, being the lovers 
of Vertue, and Literature; and so consequently the wel-willers 
(I hope) of a properous issue of my designements, in my laborious 
pedestrian perambulations of Asia, Africa, and Europe. . . . 
In primis, to the two Ladies Varney, , . . 

2 Item, to that famous Antiquarie, Sir Robert Gotten, . . . 

3 Item, . . . Master William Ford, . . . 

4 Item, to Master George Speake, . . . 

5 Item, to Master John Donne, . . . 

6 Item, to Master Richard Martin, . . . 

7 Item, to Master Ghristopher Brooke, . . . 

8 Item, to Master John Hoskins, ... 

9 Item, to Master George Garrat, . . . 

10 Item, to Master William Hackwell, . . . 

11 Item, to Master Beniamin Johnson the Poet, at his Cham- 
ber at the Black-Friers. 

12 Item, to Master John Bond, . . . 

13 Item, to Master Doctor Mocket, ... 

14 Item, to Master Samuel Purchas, . . . 

[From Purchas his Pilgrimes, 1625, Part i, pp. 595-97.] 

R. C, about 1615. 

lohnson they say's turnd Epigrammatist, 
Soe think not I, believe it they that list. 
Peruse his booke, thou shalt not find a dram 
Of witt befitting a true Epigram. 
Perhaps some scraps of play-bookes thou maist see. 
Collected heer & there confusedlie. 
Which piece his broken stuffe; if thou but note, 
lust like soe many patches on a cote. 
And yet his intret Cato sta[n]ds before, 
Even at the portall of his pamphlets dore; 



TO BEN JONSON 91 

As who should say, this booke is fit for none 

But Catoes, learned men, to looke upon: 

Or else, let Cato censure if he will, 

My booke deserves the best of iudgement still. 

When every gull may see his booke's untwitten. 

And Epigrams as bad as e're were written. 

lohnson, this worke thy other doth distaine, 
And makes the world imagine that thy vein 
Is not true bred but of some bastard race. 
Then write no more, or write with better grace; 
Turne thee to plaies, & therin write thy fill; 
Leave Epigrams to artists of more skill. 

[The Times' Whistle, ed. J. M. Cowper, 1871, p. 132. The author was 
probably Richard Corbet.] 

Tradition, before 1616. 

Shake-speare was god-father to one of Ben Jonson's children, 
and after the christ'ning, being in a deepe study, Jonson came 
to cheere him up, and ask't him why he was so melancholy? 
" No, faith, Ben, (sayes he) not I, but I have been considering 
a great while what should be the fittest gift for me to bestow 
upon my god-child, and I have resolv'd at last." " I pr'y the, 
what? " sayes he. " I' faith, Ben, I'le e'en give him a douzen 
good Lattin Spoones, and thou shalt translate them." 

[This tradition, elsewhere recorded, is here cited from Sir Nicholas 
L'Estrange, Merry Passages and Jests, Harl. MS. 6395, ed. W. J. 
Thorns, Camden Society, 1839, p. 2.] 

Tradition, before 1616. 

Ben Johnson, at the Christning of Shakespeare his child, to 
which he was invited god-father, said to him^ — ■' Now you expect 
a great matter. But I will give it a Latin (latten) spoon, and 
you shall translate it.' 

[From the Plume MSS., number 25, leaf 161.] 

Tradition, before 1616. 
Mr Ben: Johnson and Mr Wm. Shake-speare Being Merrye 
at a Tavern Mr Jonson haveing begune this for his Epitaph 



92 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Here lies Ben Johnson that was once one he gives ytt to Mr 

Shakspear to make upp who presently wrightes 

Who while hee liv'de was a sloe thing 

and now being dead is Nothinge. 

[Ashmolean MSS., vol. 38, p. 181, reproduced in J. O. Halliwell's Life 
of Shakespeare, 1848, p. 186.] 

Tradition, before 1616. 

B. Johnson in seipsum. 

Heere lies Johnson, 

Who was ones sonne: 

He had a little hayre on his chin, 

His name was Benjamin ! 

[Quoted from "an early MS. commonplace book," by J. O. Halliwell, 
Life of Shakespeare, 1848, p. 186.] 

Tradition, before 1616. 
' Here lies Ben Johnson — who was once one.' 
This he made of himself. Shakspere took the pen from him 
and made this: 

' Here lies Benjamin — ^with short hair upon his chin — 
Who, while he lived, was a slow thing, — ■ 
And now he's dead is nothing.' 
[F"rom the Plume MSS., number 25, leaf 77 from end A.] 

Tradition, before 1616, 
Verses by Ben Jonson and Shakespeare, occasioned by the 
motto to the Globe Theatre^ — Totiis mundus agit histrionem. 

Jonson 
If, but stage actors, all the world displays. 
Where shall we find spectators of their plays? 

Shakespeare 

Little, or much, of what w^e see, we do; 

We are all both actors and spectators too. 

[Choice Notes from William Oldys' manuscript Adversaria, in Notes 
and Queries, Series 2, vol. xi, p. 184. The quotation is said to be 
from "Poetical Characteristicks, Svo. MS., vol. i, sometime in the 
Harleian library; which volume was returned to its owners."] 



TO BEN JONSON 93 

John Finett, 1616. 

The King being desirous, that the French, Venetian, and 
Savoyard Ambassadors should all be invited to a Maske [Jonson's 
Golden Age Restored] at Court prepared for New-years night, an 
exception comming from the French, was a cause of deferring 
their invitation till Twelfe night, when the Maske was to be 
re-acted. This French Ambassador having demanded Audience 
by the mediation of the Lord Haye, and not obtained it as he 
affected . . . was offended that the Spanish Ambassador . . . 
should have . . . an Audience before him. With this considera- 
tion, and not without his Majesties sence of such formality, he 
was not invited till for the Twelfe night, when he with the other 
two mentioned were received at eight of the Clock, the houre 
assigned (no Supper being prepared for them, as at other times 
to avoid the trouble incident) and were conducted to the privy 
Gallery by the Lord Chamberlaine, and the Lord Danvers 
appointed ... to accompany them, the Master of the Cere- 
monies being also present. 

They were all there placed at the Maske on the Kings right 
hand . . . first and next to the King the French, next him the 
Venetian, and next him the Savoyard. At his Majesties left 
hand sate the Queene, and next her the Prince. The Maske 
being ended, they followed his Majesty to a Banquet in the 
Presence, and returned by the way they entered. 
[Finelti Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 31-32.] 

William Browne, 161 6. 

Jonson, whose full of merit to rehearse 
Too copious is to be confin'd in verse; 
Yet therein only fittest to be known, 
Could any write a line which he might own. 
One so judicious, so well knowing, and 
A man whose least worth is to understand; 
One so exact in all he doth prefer 
To able censure; for the theatre 
Not Seneca transcends his worth of praise; 
Who writes him well shall well deserve the bays. 
[Britannia' s Pastorals, 1616, Bk. ii, Song ii.] 



1 



94 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

George Gerrard, 1616. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, June 14, 1616. 
The King feasted by Alderman Cockayne and the new Com- 
pany of Merchant Adventurers, who gave him 1,000/. in a basin 
and ewer of gold. Dyers, cloth dressers, with their shuttles, 
and Hamburgians, were presented to the King, " and spake such 
language as Ben Jonson putt in theyre mouthes." 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1616, p. 373.] 

Ab[raham] Holl[and], 1616. 
Johnsoni typus, ecce! qui furoris, 
Antistes sacer, Enthei, Camenis, 
Vindex Ingenij recens Sepulti, 
Antiquae reparator unus artis, 
Defuncta Pater Eruditionis, 
Et Scense veteris novator audax. 
Nee foelix minus, aut minus politus 
Cui solus similis, Figura, vivet. 

O could there be an art found out that might 
Produce his shape soe lively as to write. 

[Lines beneath the engraved portrait prefixed to the 1616 (and 1640) 
foho of Jonson's Worltes. The portrait seems also to have been 
printed and sold separately, since it has below it the statement 
"Are to be Sould by William Peake."] 

Title-page, 1616. 

The Workes of Beni^mlin Jonson . . . Imprinted at London 
by William Stansby, Ano. D. 1616. 

[This title-page is elaborately engraved by William Hole.] 

John Selden, 1616. 

Ad V. CI. Ben Jonsonium, Carmen Protrepticon. 
Raptam Threicii lyram Neanthus 
Pulset; carmina circulis Palaemon 
Scribat; qui manibus facit deabus 
Illotis, metuat Probum. Placere 
Te doctis juvat auribus, placere 



TO BEN JONSON 95 

Te raris juvat auribus. Camaenas 
Cum totus legerem tuas (Camccnae 
Nam totum rogitant tuse, nee ullam 
Qui pigre trahat oscitationem, 
Leetorem) et numeros, acumen, artem. 
Mirum judicium, quod ipse censor, 
Jonsoni, nimium licet malignus, 
Si doctus simiil, exigat, viderem, 
Sermonem et nitidum, facetiasque 
Dignas Mercurio, novasque gnomas 
Morum sed veterum, tuique juris 
Quicquid dramaticum tui legebam, 
Tam semper fore, tamque te loquutum, 
Ut nee Lemnia notior sigillo 
Tellus, nee macula sacrandus Apis, 
Non cesto Venus, aut comis Apollo, 
Quam musa fueris sciente notus, 
Quam musa fueris tua notatus. 
Ilia, quae unica, sidus ut refulgens, 
Stricturas, superat comis, minorum : 
In mentem subiit Stolonis illud. 
Lingua Pieridas fuisse Plauti 
Usuras, Ciceronis atque dictum, 
Saturno genitum phrasi Platonis, 
Musae si Latio, Jovisque Athenis 
Dixissent. Fore jam sed hunc et illas 
Jonsoni numeros puto loquutos, 
Anglis si fuerint utrique fati. 
Tam, mi, tu sophiam doces amoene 
Sparsim tamque sophos amoena sternis! 
Sed, tot delicias, minus placebat, 
Sparsis distraherent tot in libellis 
Cerdoi cacul». Volumen unum. 
Quod seri Britonum terant nepotes, 
Optabam, et thyasus chorusque amantum 
Musas hoc cupiunt, tui laborum 
Et quicquid reliquum est, adhuc tuisque 
Servatum pluteis. Tibi at videmur 



9t) AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Non tarn quaerere quam parare nobis 
Laudem, dum volumus palam merentis 
Tot laurus cupidi reposta scripta; 
Dum secernere te tuasque musas 
Audemus numero iingulae liquorem 
Gustante, et veteres novem sorores 
Et Sirenibus et solent cicadis: 
Dum et secernere posse te videmur, 
Efflictum petimus novumque librum, 
Qui nullo sacer haut petatur aevo, 
Qui nullo sacer exolescat aevo, 
Qui curis niteat tuis secundis; 
Ut nos scire aliquid simul putetur. 
Atqui hoc macte sies, velutque calpar, 
Quod diis inferium, tibi sacremus, 
Ut nobis bene sit; tuamque frontem 
Perfundant ederse recentiores 
Et splendor no\ais. Invident coronam 
Hanc tantam patriae tibique (quanta 
internum a merito tuo superbum 
Anglorum genus esse possit olim) 
Tantum qui penitus volunt amoenas 
Sublatas literas, timentve lucem 
lonsoni nimiam tenebriones. 
[Prefixed to The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, 1616.] 

Edward Hayward, 1616. 

To Ben. lonson, on his ivorkes. 
May I subscribe a name? dares my bold quill 

Write that or good or ill, 
Whose fame is that of height, that, to mine eye, 

Its head is in the sky? 
Yes. Since the most censures, believes, and saith 

By an implicit faith : 
Lest their misfortune make them chance amiss, 

I'll waft them right by this. 
Of all I know thou only art the man 

That dares but what he can : 



TO BEN JONSON 97 

Yet by performance shows he can do more 

Than hath been done before, 
Or will be after; (such assurance gives 

Perfection where it lives.) 
Words speak thy matter; matter fills thy words: 

And choice that grace affords, 
That both are best: and both most fitly placed, 

Are with new Venus graced 
From artful method. All in this point meet, 

With good to mingle sweet. 
These are thy lower parts. What stands above 

Who sees not yet must love. 
When on the base he reads Ben Jonson's name, 

And hears the rest from fame. 
This from my love of truth: which pays this due 

To your just worth, not you. 
[Prefixed to The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, 1616.] 

William Fennor, 1616. 

The Description of a Poet. 
. . . But when his writings are not understood. 
Oh! 'tis a plague beyond man's patient thought, 
What he makes good a multitude makes nought. 
A horrid murtherer, or a base thiefe. 
In his foule bosome harbers lesser griefe 
Then Heaven-bred Poesye; they shall be tryed 
By upright justice, and their faults descried 
Before a publike bench, hold up their hand 
And plead " Not guiltie "; on their just cause stand 
Twelve men empannelled to finde this out 
Before the sentence passe, to cleere the doubt 
Of judging rashly. But sweet Poesye 
Is oft convict, condemn'd, and judg'd to die 
Without just triall, by a multitude. 
Whose judgements are illiterate and rude. 
Witness Scejanus, whose approved worth 
Sounds from the calme South to the freezing North ; 



98 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And on the perfum'd wings of Zepherus, 

In triumph mounts as farre as ^olus; 

With more than humane art it was bedewed, 

Yet to the multitude it nothing shewed; 

They screw'd their scurvy jaws and lookt awry, 

Like hissing snakes, adjudging it to die; 

When wits of gentry did applaud the same. 

With silver shouts of high loud-sounding fame; 

Whilst understanding-grounded men contemn'd it, 

And wanting wit (like fools) to judge, condemn 'd it. 

Clapping or hissing is the onely meane 

That tries and searches out a well-writ sceane; 

So it is thought by Ignoramus crew, 

But that, good wits acknowledge, is untrue; 

The stinckards oft will hisse without a cause, 

And for a bawdy jeast will give applause. 

Let one but ask the reason why they roare, 

They'l answere, " Cause the rest did so before." 

[Fennor's Descriptions; or A True Relation of Certain and Divers 
Speeches, Spoken before the King and Queen's Most Excellent 
Majestie, in The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 
1828, iii, 143.] 

John Dunbar, 1616. 

Ad. Ben. Jonson. 
Filius Hebraeis Ben est: Son filius Anglis: 

Filii es ergo duo: quot tibi qu£eso patres? 
Si scio, disperiam : scio quod sit magnus Apollo 
Unus de patribus, magne poeta, tuis. 
[Epigrammaton Joannis Dunhari Megalo-Britanni, 1616.] 

Robert Anton, 1616. 
But the sound melancholicke mixt of earth, 
Plowes with his wits, and brings a sollid birth: 
The labor'd lines of some deepe reaching scull, 
Is like some Indian ship or stately hull, 
That three years progresse furrows up the maine, 
Bringing rich ingots from his loaden braine; 



TO BEN JONSON 99 

His wit the sunne, his labors are the mines, 

His sollid stuffe the treasure of his Hnes: 

Mongst which most massive mettals I admire 

The most iudicious Beaumont and his fire: 

The ever cohmi builder of his fame, 

Sound searching Spencer with his Faierie frame: 

The labor'd Muse of lohnson, in whose loome 

His silke-worme stile shall build an honor'd toombe 

In his owne worke: though his long curious twins 

Hang in the roofe of time with daintie lines; 

Greeke-thundring Chapman, beaten to the age 

With a deep furie and a sollid rage. 

And Morrall Daniell with his pleasing phrase, 

Filing the rockie methode of these dales. 

[The Philosophers Satyrs, 1616.] 

Edward Sherburn, 1616. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, November 18, 1616. 
Preparation for a masque [Jonson's Vision of Delight] &c., 
which will increase the King's debt 2,000 £. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1616, p. 406.] 

John Chamberlain, 1617. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 18, idiy. 
. . . On twelfe night was a maske [Jonson's Vision of Delight] 
wherin the new made Earle [of Buckingham] and the Earle of 
mongomerie daunced w*'' the Queene. I have heard no great 
speach nor commendations of the maske neither before nor since, 
but yt is apointed to be represented again to morrow night, and 
the Spanish Ambassador invited. . . . The Virginian ^oman 
Pocahontas w*'' her father Counsaillor have ben w*** the King 
and graciously used, and both she and her assistant well placed 
at the maske, she is upon her return (though sore against her will) 
yf the wind wold come about to send them away. 
[State Papers, Domestic, James I, xc, 25.] 



lOO AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Chamberlain, 1617. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, February 22, i6iy. 

. . . This night he [Baron de Tour, the French ambassador] 

is solemly invited by the Lord Hay to the wardrobe to supper 

and a masque [Jonson's Lovers Made Men.]. 

[Birch, T. and R. F. Williams, The Court and Times of James the First, 
1849, i, 459. Cf. State Papers, xc, nos. 79, 94.] 

John Chamberlain, 1617. 

• Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, March 8, idiy. 

The Frenchmen are gone after their great entertainment, 

which was too great for such petty companions, specially that 

of the Lord Hay. . . . 

[Birch, T. and R. F. Williams, The Court and Times of James the First, 
i, 462. The allusion is to Jonson's Lovers Made Men.] 

Title-page, 161 7. 
Lovers made Men. A Masque Presented in the House of the 
Right Honorable The Lord Haye. By divers of noble qualitie, 
his friends. For the entertaynment of Monsieur le Baron de 
Tour, extraordinarie Ambassador for the French King. On 
Saterday the 22. of February. 16 17. [London,] 161 7. 

George Gerrard, 1617. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, June 4, idiy. 
Ben Jonson is going on foot to Edinburgh and back, for his 
profit. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1617, p. 472.] 

John Davies of Hereford, 1617. 

To my learnedly witty friend, Mr. Beniamin Johnson. 
Thy sconse, that guards thy wits as it they guard. 
Large, round, & sound, yet no whit can be spar'd: 
For thy Wit's throng: that plenty makes thee scarce, 
• Which makes thee slow, as sure in prose or verse, 
As say thy worst detractors; then, if thou 
For all eternity, writ'st sure and slowe, 



TO BEN JONSON lOI 

Thy Wits, as they come thronging out of dore, 
Do sticke awhile, to spread their praise the more. 

[Wits Bedlam, 1617; The Complete Works of John Davies, ed. A. B. 
Grosart, 1878, ii, 4.] 

Edmund Bolton, 1617-25. 

The Proposition made in ParHament concerning an Academ 
Royal, or College and Senate of Honor, by the Lord Marquis of 
Buckingham, and there approved; as it was occasioned and 
founded upon the reasons severally presented to his Sacred 
Majesty and to his Lordship before Christmas last, A.D. 1620, 
in the name of The Honor of the Kingdom and of the Antiquities 
thereof. 

, . . To convert the Castle Royal of Windsor, ... or if not 
Windsor, what other place his Majesty shall be pleased to appoint, 
to an English Olympus; nay, rather not to convert it, but only 
to obtain so transcendant and pompous a favour, as that his 
sacred self and nobles stellified in the Order of the Garter, as in 
their proper sphere, would receive and take in this humanity of 
heroic faculties into that as it were divinity of their splendour, 
place, and calling: to erect thereby an order within the Order 
of Saint George, and as it were to draw a narrow circle 
within a large, concentrick, that company to consist of se- 
lected persons competent for such a noble use, with particular 
privileges, fees, and ornaments, and they incorporated under 
the title of a brotherhood or fraternity associated for matters 
of honour and antiquity, and under a certain canon of govern- 
ment, at His Majesty's pleasure; a member subject to the 
famous Earl Marshalship of England during the exercise or 
agon : the rules and laws to be such as shall by moral learning be 
found most apt to habituate heroic virtues, for the love thereof 
to enflame man's heart with the sober desire of glory. The 
officers to be chosen answerably worthy to such laws; men 
whose pay and ends must be only honour. All questions 
of heroic doctrine to be distinctly spoken unto out of writing 
upon sufficient warning first given, not after the tumultuous, 
violent, and clamorous manner of ordinary schools, but after 



I02 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

the grave and honourable forms of ParHament; the speech or 
discourse to remain under the author's subscribed name and 
seal of arms. The general exercise to be summary at Saint 
George's Feast, the particulars to be quarterly; the names, 
styles, and armories of the brethren to be publicly set over each 
gentleman's head, and all to remain upon record with the Register 
of the Society. 

[Had. MS. 6143. The men selected to be founders of this Royal 
Academy were "Mr. George Chapman, Sir Robert Cotton, Sir 
Kenelm Digby, Mr. Michael Drayton, Mr. Benjamin Jonston, 
Mr. Inico Jones, Mr. Endymion Porter, Mr. John Selden, Sir 
Henry Wotton," and seventy-five others. For a general summary 
of this long manuscript, see the article by Joseph Hunter in 
Archceologia, xxxii, p. 132 ff. The project was under discussion 
from 1617; its realization was apparently prevented by the death 
of King James.] 

Nathaniel Brent, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 2, 16 18. 

The Qu: hath caused y*^ La. maske to be put of w'''' my L'^ 
Hay should have made at y*^ robes last night. The other w''"' 
y® Prince is to make in the banqueting house on 12*^ night, and 
wherein himself is to be an actor, is likely to hould. 

Your L^ heard before this time y* y'^ marchands of middleb. 
& y^ East Indies have undertaken to furnish y" exchequC with 
5000o£, of vj''^ his ma*'** hath bin pleased to assigne for Ireland 
i2ooo£, for y'' arrerages of y^ artillerie 8ooo£, for Marquis 
Hammelton 8ooo£, for my L'^ D'Aubigni 400o£, for my L'^ Hey 
300o£, for my L^ Haddingto 2ooo£ and 400o£ for y'' Princes 
maske [Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue], al which he wil most 
gratiously per forme if there be not to much difificulty found in y^ 
collecting of it. 

London, Jan. jV, 1617. 

Your LP^ most devoted to do you service 

Nathanael Brent. 
[State Papers, Domestic, James I, xcv, no. 3; cf. xciv, no. 52. j 



TO BEN JONSON 103 

John Chamberlain, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January j, 1618. 
The Muscovy Ambassadors shall be feasted at Court to- 
morrow, and on Twelfth-night is the Prince's Masque [Jonson's 
Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue]. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1823, iii, 453.] 

John Finett, 1618. 

A Mask [Jonson's Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue] prepared for 
Twelftyde (wherein the Prince was to be a principall Actor) and 
that his first Exercise in that kinde) was a subject for the King 
to invite to it the Spanish Ambassador, and to observe the 
promise his Majestiy had made him the yeare before to that 
purpose, the rather because a Marriage between the Prince and 
the Infanta was then in Treaty. 
[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, p. 48.] 

Horatio Busino, 1618. 

On the i6th [O.S. 6th] of the current month of January, his 
Excellency was invited to see a representation and masque 
[Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue], which had been prepared with 
extraordinary pains, the chief performer being the king's own 
son and heir, the prince of Wales, now seventeen years old, an 
agile youth, handsome and very graceful. At the fourth hour 
of the night we went privately to the Court, through the park. 
On reaching the royal apartments his Excellency was entertained 
awhile by one of the leading cavaliers until all was ready, whilst 
we, his attendants, all perfumed and escorted by the master of 
the ceremonies, entered the usual box of the Venetian embassy, 
. . . Whilst waiting for the king we amused ourselves by admir- 
ing the decorations and beauty of the house. . . . Then such a 
concourse as there was, for although they profess only to admit 
the favoured ones who are invited, yet every box was filled 
notably with most noble and richly arrayed ladies, in number 
some 600 and more according to the general estimate; the 
dresses being of such variety in cut and colour as to be inde- 
scribable; the most delicate plumes over their heads, springing 



104 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

from their foreheads or in their hands serving as fans; strings of 
jewels on their necks and bosoms and in their girdles and apparel 
in such quantity that they looked like so many queens, so that 
at the beginning, with but httle light, such as that of the dawn 
or of the evening twilight, the splendour of their diamonds and 
other jewels was so brilliant that they looked like so many stars. 
During the two hours of waiting we had leisure to examine them 
again and again. . . . 

At about the 6th hour of the night the king appeared with his 
court, having passed through the apartments where the ambassa- 
dors were in waiting, whence he graciously conducted them, that 
is to say, the Spaniard and the Venetian, it not being the French- 
man's turn, he and the Spaniard only attending the court cere- 
monies alternately by reason of their disputes about precedence. 

On entering the house, the cornets and trumpets to the number 
of fifteen or twenty began to play very well a sort of recitative, 
and then after his Majesty had seated himself under the canopy 
alone, the queen not being present on account of a slight indis- 
position, he caused the ambassadors to sit below him on two 
stools, while the great officers of the crown and courts of law sat 
upon benches. The Lord Chamberlain then had the way cleared 
and in the middle of the theatre there appeared a fine and 
spacious area carpeted all over with green cloth. In an instant a 
large curtain dropped, painted to represent a tent of gold cloth 
with a broad fringe; the background was of canvas painted blue, 
powdered all over with golden stars. This became the front 
arch of the stage, forming a drop scene, and on its being removed 
there appeared first of all Mount Atlas, whose enormous head 
was alone visible up aloft under the very roof of the theatre; 
it rolled up its eyes and moved itself very cleverly. As a foil 
to the principal ballet and masque they had some mummeries 
performed in the first act; for instance, a very chubby Bacchus 
appeared on a car drawn by four gownsmen, who sang in an 
undertone before his Majesty. There was another stout indi- 
vidual on foot, dressed in red in short clothes, who made a speech, 
reeling about like a drunkard, tankard in hand, so that he 
resembled Bacchus's cupbearer. This first scene was very gay 



TO BEN JONSON 105 

and burlesque. Next followed twelve extravagant masquers, 
one of whom was in a barrel, all but his extremities, his com- 
panions being similarly cased in huge wicker flasks, very well 
made. They danced awhile to the sound of the cornets and 
trumpets, performing various and most extravagant antics. 
These were followed .by a gigantic man representing Hercules 
with his club, who strove with Antaeus and performed other 
feats. Then came twelve masked boys in the guise of frogs. 
They danced together, assuming sundry grotesque attitudes. 
After they had all fallen down, they were driven off by Hercules. 
Mount Atlas then opened, by means of two doors, which were 
made to turn, and from behind the hills of a distant landscape 
the day was seen to dawn, some gilt columns being placed along 
either side of the scene, so as to aid the perspective and make the 
distance seem greater. Mercury next appeared before the king 
and made a speech. After him came a guitar player in a gown, 
who sang some trills, accompanying himself with his instrument. 
He announced himself as some deity, and then a number of 
singers, dressed in long red gowns to represent high priests, 
came on the stage, wearing gilt mitres. In the midst of them 
was a goddess in a long white robe and they sang some jigs 
which we did not understand. It is true that, spoiled as we are 
by the gracefijl and harmonious music of Italy, the composition 
did not strike us as very fine. Finally twelve cavaliers, masked, 
made their appearance, dressed uniformly, six having the entire 
hose crimson with plaited doublets of white satin trimmed with 
gold and silver lace. The other six wore breeches down to the 
knee, with the half hose also crimson, and white shoes. These 
matched well their corsets which were cut in the shape of the 
ancient Roman corslets. On their heads they wore long hair 
and crowns and very tall white plumes. Their faces were 
covered with black masks. These twelve descended together 
from above the scene in the figure of a pyramid, of which the 
prince formed the apex. When they reached the ground the 
violins, to the number of twenty-five or thirty began to play 
their airs. After they had made an obeisance to his Majesty, 
they began to dance in very good time, preserving for a while 



I06 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

the same pyramidical figure, and with a variety of steps. After- 
wards they changed places with each other in various ways, but 
ever ending the jump together. When this was over, each took 
his lady, the prince pairing with the principal one among those 
who were ranged in a row ready to dance, and the others doing 
the like in succession, all making obeisance to his Majesty first 
and then to each other. They performed every sort of ballet 
and dance of every coimtry whatsoever such as passamezzi, 
corants, canaries see Spaniards and a hundred other very fine 
gestures, devised to tickle the fancy. Last of all they danced 
the Spanish dance, one at a time, each with his lady, and being 
well nigh tired they began to lag, whereupon the king, who is 
naturally choleric, got impatient and shouted aloud: "Why 
don't they dance? What did they make me come here for? 
Devil take you all, dance." Upon this, the Marquis of Bucking- 
ham, his Majesty's favourite, immediately sprang forward, 
cutting a score of lofty and very minute capers, with so much 
grace and agility that he not only appeased the ire of his angry 
lord, but rendered himself the admiration and delight of every- 
body. The other masquers, thus encouraged, continued to 
exhibit their prowess one after another, with various ladies, also 
finishing with capers and lifting their godesses from the ground. 
We counted thirty-four capers as cut by one cavalier in suc- 
cession, but none came up to the exquisite manner of the marquis. 
The prince, however, excelled them all in bowing, being very 
formal in making his obeisance both to the king and to the lady 
with whom he danced, nor was he once seen to do a step out of 
time when dancing, whereas one cannot perhaps say so much 
for the others. Owing to his youth he has not yet much breath, 
nevertheless he cut a few capers very gracefully. The encounter 
of these twelve accomplished cavaliers being ended, and after 
they had valiantly overcome the sloth and debauch of Bacchus, 
the prince went in triumph to kiss his father's hands. The king 
embraced and kissed him tenderly and then honoured the 
marquis with marks of extraordinary affection, patting his face. 
The king now rose from his chair, took the ambassadors along 
with him, and after passing through a number of chambers and 



TO BEN JONSON 107 

galleries he reached a hall where the usual collation was spread 
for the performers, a light being carried before him. After he 
had glanced all round the table he departed, . . . The table 
was covered almost entirely with seasoned pasties and very few 
sugar confections. There were some large figures, but they 
were of painted pasteboard for ornament. The repast was 
served upon glass plates or dishes and at the first assault they 
upset the table and the crash of glass platters reminded me pre- 
cisely of a severe hailstorm at Midsummer smashing the window 
glass. The story ended at half past two in the morning and half 
disgusted and weary we returned home. 

[Anglipotrida, written by Horatio Busino, the chaplain to the Venetian 
Ambassador, reprinted in Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xv, 
111-114.] 

Sir Edward Harwood, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 7, 1618. 

. . . The last night beinge twelfthnight was the masque 
[Jonson's Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue], the antimasque beinge of 
little boyes dressed like bottells and a man in a tonne w'='' the 
bottells drew out and tost too and fro, not ill liked the conceite 
good the poetry not so. The Ambassadors of Spayne and the 
Venetian was at it: the frenche not. 

[State Papers, Domestic, James I, xcv, no. 8.] 

John Chamberlain, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 10, 1618. 

On Twelfth-night was the Prince's Masque; . . . There w^as 
nothing in it extraordinary; but rather the invention proved dull, 
Mr. Comptroller's [Sir Thomas Edmondes's] daughter bore away 
the bell for delicate dancing, though remarkable for nothing else 
but for multitude of jewels, wherewith she was hanged as it 
were all over. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 464.] 



Io8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Nathaniel Brent, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 10, 1618. 
The Masque of Twelfth Night was so dull that people say the 
poet [Ben Jonson] should return to his old trade of brick-making. 
[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1618, p. 512.] 

Edward Sherburn, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 10, 1618. 

The maske [Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue] w*^'' was had on 

Twelwth-night wherein the Prince was one, y^ L: will percieve 

the conceipt by perusing this little book. I must tell yo' L: 

it came far short of the expectacon & M"" Inigo Jones hath lost in 

his reputacon in regard some extraordinary devise was looked for 

(it being the Prince his first mask) and a poorer was never sene. 

[State Papers, Domestic, James I, xcv, (addenda) 10*. Calendar of 
State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1623-1625, p. 552.] 

Sir Gerard Herbert, 1618. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 12, 1618. 

On Twelfth Night was the Prince's Masque; he acted well. 

As the Queen could not see it, it will be repeated for her on 

Shrove Sunday. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1618, p. 512; cf. also 
State Papers, xcvi, no. 27, in which Gerard describes the masque 
as it was repeated on February 17.] 

John Chamberlain, 161 8. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, February 21, 1618. , 

On Shrove Tuesday the Prince's Masque [Pleasure Reconciled 
to Virtue] for Twelfth-night was represented again with some few 
alterations and additions; but little bettered. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 46S.] 

Nathaniel Brent, 161 8. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, February 21, 1618. 

The Prince's masque [Pleasure Reconciled] exhibited again [on 
February 17], with the addition of goats and Welsh speeches. 
[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1618, p. 523.] 



TO BEN JONSON 109 

Exchequer Accounts, 1618. 

Thomas Knyuett ordinary Groome of the Prince his highnes 

chamber being sent by the Comaundem* of S"" Robert Gary 

Knight Ghamberlaine to the Prince his highnes from Newmarkett 

to Chelsey parke to S'' John Gotton to seeke M'' Ehott to warne 

him to attend the Prince w*^ his hawke after dinner. Also 

another time sent by M'' Gray from White hall to Blackfriers to 

M' Johnson the Poet to come to the Prince ffor w'^*' severall 

services hee prayeth to have allowance for his paines and charge 

of his horse and botehire too and fro and to be rated by the 

hono^"' S'' Robert Gary Knight Ghamberlaine to his highnes, and 

paied by the wor^. M"". Adam Newton Recevio*" generall of his 

highnes Treasure iiij\ 

Ro: cary 

Alexander 

[Exchequer of Receipts, Miscellaneous, cccxlviii.] 

Edmund Bolton, about 1618. 

But if I should declare mine own Rudeness rudely, I should 
then confess that I never tasted English more to my liking, nor 
more smart, and put to the height of Use in Poetry, then in that 
vital, judicious, and most practicable Language of Benjamin 
Jonsons Poems. 

{Hypercritica, Addresse the Fourth, Sect, iii.] 

John Taylor, 1618. 

To all my Loving Adventurers, by what Name or Title soever, my 
General Salutation. 
Reader, these Travels of mJne into Scotland, were not under- 
taken, neither in imitation, or emulation of any man, but only 
devised by myself, on purpose to make trial of my friends both 
in this Kingdom of England, and that of Scotland, and because I 
would be an eye-witness of divers things which I had heard of 
that Gountry; and whereas many shallow-brained Gritics, do 
lay an aspersion on me, that I was set on by others, or that 
I did undergo this project, either in malice, or mockage of Master 
Benjamin Jon son, I vow by the faith of a Ghristian, that their 



no AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

imaginations are all wide, for he is a gentleman, to whom I am 
so much obliged for many undeserved courtesies that I have 
received from him, and from others by his favour, that I durst 
never to be so impudent or ungrateful, as either to suffer any 
man's persuasions, or mine own instigation, to incite me, to make 
so bad a requital, for so much goodness formerly received. 

(P. 121.) 

Now the day before I came from Edinburgh, I went to Leeth, 
where I found my long approved and assured good friend Master 
Benjamin Jonson, at one Master John Stuarts house; I thank 
him for his great kindness toward me: for at my taking leave of 
him, he gave me a piece of gold of two and twenty shillings to 
drink his health in England. And withal, willed me to remember 
his kind commendations to all his friends: So with a friendly 
farewell, I left him as well, as I hope never to see him in a worse 
estate: for he is amongst noblemen and gentlemen that know his 
true worth, and their own honours, where, with much respective 
love he is worthily entertained. (P. 138.) 

[The Pennyles Pilgrimage, 1618; the page references are to the Folio of 
1630.] 

Edinburgh Council Records, 1618. 

[The follou'ing is a summary of Professor Massons account of 
Jonson' s reception by the civic authorities of Edinburgh in 1618.] 
In the Register of the Edinburgh Town Council, under the 
date 25th September 16 18, appears a minute stating that on that 
day, the Provost, Bailies, Dean of Guild, Treasurer, and Council 
" being conveynitt," and having transacted some other pieces of 
business, the following order was passed : — 

" Ordanis the Deyne of Gild to mak Benjamyn Jonsoun, 
Inglisman, burges and gild-brother in communi forma." 

At the time of their order to the Dean of Guild Aikenhead to 
make Jonson a burgess and guild-brother, the Magistrates and 
Town Council had resolved that it would be but right and fitting 
that the admission of so distinguished an Englishman to the 
freedom of Edinburgh should not be a mere affair of appearance 
and handshaking at a Council meeting, but should be marked by 



TO BEN JONSON III 

some more solid and memorable accompaniment. The proof is 
furnished by this minute of a subsequent meeting of the Magis- 
trates and Council, of date i6th October 1618, or three weeks 
after their former order: — 

" Ordanis the Thesaurer to pay to James Ainslie, laite baillie, 
twa hundreth twenty-ane pound, sex schillingis, four pennyis, 
debursit be him upone the denner maid to Benjamin Jonstoun, 
conforme to the Act maid thairanent and compt given in of the 
same." 

The transaction reappears at a later date in this entry in the 
Treasurer's accounts, taking credit for the sum he had paid: — ■ 

" Item, thair aucht to be allowed to the Compter, payit be 
him to James Ainslie, bailie, for expenses debursit upone ane 
bancquett maid to Benjamin Johnstoune, conforme to ane Act 
of Counsell of the dait the [blank] day of September 16 18 — • 
ii'^xxi lib vi^ viii*^ " — fourpence more, it will be observed, than 
in the former reckoning. The banquet must have been on some 
day between the 25th of September and the i6th of October. 

The following entry in Dean of Guild Aikenhead's accounts 
refers to Ben Jonson's burgess-ticket, which, as Professor Masson 
suggests, must have been about as handsome as could then be 
devised : — 

" Item, the twentie day of Januar I'^VP and nyntene yeiris, 
geivin at directione of the Counsell to Alex"". Patersone for 
wrytting and gilting of Benjamine Johnestounes burges ticket, 
being thryis writtin, xiii lib vi*" viii"*." 

[For fuller details see Professor Masson's article in Blackwood' s Edin- 
burgh Magazine, December, 1893.] 

William Drummond, 1619. 

Notes of Ben Jonsons Conversations. 

That he had ane intention to perfect ane Epick Poeme intitled 
Heroologia, of the Worthies of this Country rowsed by Fame; 
and was to dedicate it to his Country: it is all in couplets, for he 
detesteth all other rimes. 



112 AN ALLUSlON-BOOK 

All this ivas to no purpose, for he [Jonson] neither doeth under- 
stand French nor Italiannes. 

Daniel was at jealousies with him. 

Drayton feared him; and he esteemed not of him. 

That Francis Beaumont loved too much himself and his own 
verses. 

That Sir John Roe loved him ; and when they two were ushered 
by my Lord Suffolk from a Mask, Roe wrott a moral Epistle to 
him, which began. That next to playes, the Court and the State 
were the best. God threateneth Kings, Kings Lords, [as] Lords do us. 

He beat Marston, and took his pistoll from him. 

Sir W. Alexander was not half kinde unto him, and neglected 
him, because a friend to Drayton. 

That Sir R. Aiton loved him dearly. 

Nid Field was his-schollar, and he had read to him the Satyres 
of Horace, and some Epigrames of Martiall. 

That Markam (who added his English Arcadia) was not of the 
number of the Faithfull, i.[e.] Poets, and but a base fellow. 

That such were Day and Midleton. 

That Chapman and Fletcher were loved of him. 

Overbury was first his friend, then turn'd his mortall enimie. 



Of his owne lyfe, education, birth, actions. 

His Grandfather came from Carlisle, and, he thought, from 
Anandale to it: he served King Henry 8, and was a gentleman. 
His Father losed all his estate under Queen Marie, having been 
cast in prisson and forfaitted; at last turn'd Minister: so he was a 
minister's son. He himself was posthumous born, a moneth after 
his father's decease; brought up poorly, putt to school by a friend 
(his master Cambden) ; after taken from it, and put to ane other 
craft (7 think was to be a wright or bricklayer) , which he could not 
endure; then went he to the Low Countries; but returning soone 
he betook himself to his wonted studies. In his service in the 
Low Countries, he had, in the face of both the campes, killed 
ane enemie and taken opima spolia from him; and since his 
comming to England, being appealed to the fields, he had killed 



TO BEN JONSON II3 

his adversarie, which had hurt him in the arme, and whose 
sword was 10 inches longer than his; for the which he was 
emprissoned, and almost at the gallowes. Then took he his 
religion by trust, of a priest who visited him in prisson. There- 
after he was 12 yeares a Papist. 

He was Master of Arts in both the Universities, by their favour, 
not his studie. 

He maried a wyfe who was a shrew, yet honest : 5 yeers he had 
not bedded with her, but remayned with my Lord Aulbanie. 

In the tyme of his close imprisonment, under Queen Elizabeth, 
his judges could get nothing of him to all their demands but I 
and No. They placed two damn'd villains to catch advantage 
of him, with him, but he was advertised by his keeper: of the 
Spies he hath ane epigrame. 

When the King came in England at that tyme the pest was in 
London, he being in the country at Sir Robert Cotton's house 
with old Cambden, he saw in a vision his eldest sone, then a child 
and at London, appear unto him with the mark of a bloodie 
crosse on his forehead, as if it had been cutted with a suord, at 
which amazed he prayed unto God, and in the morning he came 
to Mr. Cambden's chamber to tell him; who persuaded him it 
was but ane apprehension of his fantasie, at which he sould not 
be disjected ; in the mean tyme comes there letters- from his 
wife of the death of that boy in the plague. He appeared to him 
(he said) of a manlie shape, and of that grouth that he thinks he 
shall be at the resurrection. 

He was delated by Sir James Murray to the King, for writting 
something against the Scots, in a play Eastward Hoe, and volun- 
tarily imprissonned himself with Chapman and Marston, who 
had written it amongst them. The report was, that they should 
then [have] had their ears cut and noses. After their delivery, 
he banqueted all his friends; there was Camden, Selden, and 
others; at the midst of the feast his old Mother dranke to him, 
and shew him a paper which she had (if the sentence had taken 
execution) to have mixed in the prisson among his drinke, which 
was full of lustie strong poison, and that she was no churle, she 
told, she minded first to have drunk of it herself. 
9 



114 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

He had many quarrells with Marston, beat him, and took his 
pistol from him, wrote his Poetaster on him; the beginning of 
them were, that Marston represented him in the stage, in his 
youth given to venerie. He thought the use of a maide nothing 
in comparison to the wantoness of a wyfe, and would never have 
ane other mistress. He said two accidents strange befell him: 
one, that a man made his own wyfe to court him, whom he 
enjoyed two yeares ere he knew of it, and one day finding them 
by chance, was passingly delighted with it; ane other, lay 
divers tymes with a woman, who shew him all that he wished, 
except the last act, which she would never agree unto. 

S. W. Raulighe sent him governour with his Son, anno 1613, 
to France. This youth being knavishly inclyned, among other 
pastimes (as the setting of the favour of damosells on a cwd- 
piece), caused him to be drunken, and dead drunk, so that he 
knew not wher he was, therafter laid him on a carr, which he 
made to be drawen by pioners through the streets, at every 
corner showing his governour stretched out, and telhng them, 
that was a more lively image of the Crucifix then any they had : 
at which sport young Raughlie's mother delyghted much (saying, 
his father young was so inclyned), though the Father abhorred it. 

He can set horoscopes, but trusts not in them. He with the 
consent of a friend cousened a lady, with whom he had made 
ane appointment to meet ane old Astrologer, in the suburbs, 
which she keeped ; and it was himself disguysed in a longe gowne 
and a whyte beard at the light of dimm burning candles, up in a 
little cabinet reached unto by a ledder. 

Every first day of the new year he had 20 lb. sent him from the 
Earl of Pembrok to buy bookes. 

After he was reconciled with the Church, and left of to be a 
recusant, at his first communion, in token of true reconciliation, 
he drank out all the full cup of wyne. 

Being at the end of my Lord Salisburie's table with Inigo 
Jones, and demanded by my Lord, Why he was not glad? My 
Lord, said he, yow promised I should dine with yow, bot I doe 
not, for he had none of his meate; he esteemed only that his 
meate which was of his own dish. 



TO BEN JONSON I15 

He heth consumed a whole night in lying looking to his great 
toe, about which he hath seen Tartars and Turks, Romans and 
Carthaginians, feight in his imagination. 

Northampton was his mortall enimie for beating, on a St. 
George's day, one of his attenders: He was called before the 
Councell for his Sejanus, and accused both of poperie and 
treason by him. 

Sundry tymes he hath devoured his bookes, i.[e.] sold them all 
for necessity. 

He heth a minde to be a churchman, and so he might have 
favour to make one sermon to the King, he careth not what 
therafter sould befall him: for he would not flatter though he 
saw Death. 

At his hither comming, S"" Francis Bacon said to him. He 
loved not to sie Poesy goe on other feet than poeticall Dactylus 

and Spondaeus. 

* * * * 

His opinione of verses. 
That he wrott all his first in prose, for so his Master, Cambden, 

had learned him. 

* * * * 

Of his workes. 

That the half of his Comedies were not in print. 

He hath a pastoral! intitled The May Lord. His own name 
is Alkin, Ethra the Countesse of Bedfoord's, Mogibell Overberry, 
the old Countesse of Suffolk ane inchanteress; other names are 
given to Somersett's Lady, Pembrook, the Countesse of Rutland, 
Lady Wroth. In his first storie, Alkin commeth in mending his 
broken pipe. Contrary to all other pastoralls, he bringeth the 
clownes making mirth and foolish sports. 

He hath intention to writt a fisher or pastorall play, and sett 
the stage of it in the Lowmond lake. 

That Epithalamium that wants a name in his printed Workes 
was made at the Earl of Essex mariage. 

He is to writt his foot Pilgrimage hither, and to call it a 
Disco verie. 

In a poem he calleth Edinborough 



Il6 AN ALLUSIOX-BOOK 

The heart of Scotland, Britaines other eye. 

A play of his, upon which he was accused, The Divell is ane 
Ass; according to Comedia Vetus, in England the Divell was 
brought in either with one Vice or other: the play done the 
Divel caried away the Vice, he brings in the Divel so overcome 
with the wickedness of this age that thought himself ane Ass. 
VLapepyovs is discoursed of the Duke of Drounland: the King 
desired him to conceal it. 

He hath commented and translated Horace Art of Poesie: 
it is in Dialogue wayes; by Criticus he understandeth Dr. Done. 
The old book that goes about. The Art of English Poesie, was 
done 20 yeers since, and keept long in wr\-tt as a secret. 

He had ane intention to have made a play like Plautus Amphi- 
trio, but left it of, for that he could never find two so like others 
that he could persuade the spectators they were one. 

^ ^ ^ 4: 

His Epitaph, by a companion written, is. 
Here lyes Benjamin Johnson dead, 
And hath no more wit than [a] goose in his head; 
That as he was wont, so doth he still, 
Live by his wit, and evermore will. 

Ane other 

Here lyes honest Ben, 

That had not a beard on his chen. 

Miscellanies. 
He was better versed, and knew more in Greek and Latin, 
than all the Poets in England, and quintessence their braines. 
^ ^ ^ ^ 

Of all styles he loved most to be named Honest, and hath of 
that ane hundreth letters so naming him. 

* * * * 

In his merr^- humor he was wont to name himself The Poet. 

He went from Lieth homeward the 25 of Januan,' 16 19, in a 
pair of shoes which, he told, lasted him since he came from 
Darnton, which he minded to take back that farr againe: they 



TO BEX JONSON II7 

were appearing like Coriat's: the first two days he was all ex- 
coriate. 

If he died by the way, he promised to send me his papers of 
this Country, hewen as they were. 

I have to send him descriptions of Edinbrough, Borrow Lawes, 
of the Lowrhond. 

That piece of the Pucelle of the Court was stolen out of his 
pocket by a gentleman who drank him droUsie, and given 
Mistress Boulstraid; which brought him great displeasure. 
* * * * 

January 19, 1619. 

He [Jonson] is a great lover and praiser of himself; a contemner 
and scorner of others; given rather to losse a friend than a jest; 
jealous of every word and action of those about him (especiallie 
after drink, which is one of the elements in which he liveth); a 
dissembler of ill parts which raigne in him, a bragger of some 
good that he wanteth; thinketh nothing well bot what either 
he himself or some of his friends and countrymen hath said or 
done; he is passionately kynde and angry; careless either to 
gaine or keep; vindicative, but, if he be well answered, at himself. 

For any religion, as being versed in both. Interpreteth best 
sayings and deeds often to the worst. Oppressed with fantasie, 
which hath ever mastered his reason, a generall disease in many 
Poets. His inventions are smooth and easie; but above all he 
excelleth in a Translation. 

When his play of a Silent Woman was first acted, ther was 
found verses after on the stage against him, concluding that that 
play was well named the Silent Woman, ther was never one man 
to say Plaudite to it. 

[Notes of Ben Jonson s Conversations. The extracts above were chosen 
to reflect the impression that Jonson made on Drummond. The 
reader should consult the complete document.] 

William Drummond, 16 19. 

Letter to Ben Jonson, January ij, 161Q. 
Sir, 

Here you have that Epigram which you desired with another 

of the like argument. If there be any other thing in this country 



Il8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

(unto which my power can reach) command it; there is nothing 
I wish more than to be in the calendar of them who love you. 
I have heard from Court that the late Masque was not so ap- 
proved of the King, as in former times, and that your absence 
was regretted. Such applause hath true worth even of those 
who otherwise are not for it. Such, to the next occasion, taking 

my leave, I remain Your loving friend. 

W. D. 

[Reproduced in the Gifford-Cunningham edition of Jonson, 1871, i, 
xlvii.] 

William Drummond, 1619. 

Letter to Ben Jonson, July i, i6ig. 

Worthy Friend, 

The uncertainty of your abode was a cause of my silence this 

time past — ^I have adventured this packet upon hopes that a 

man so famous cannot be in any place either of the City or 

Court, where he shall not be found out. In my last (the missing 

letter) I sent you a description of Loch Lomond, with a map of 

Inch-merionach, which may, by 3^our book, be made most 

famous, . . . 

[Reproduced in the Gifford-Cunningham edition of Jonson, 1871, i, 
xlvii.] 

Mr. Craven, 1619. 

To Mr. Ben: Jonson in his Jorney. 
When witt, and learninge are so hardly sett 
That from their needfull meanes they must be bard 
Unless by going harde y''^ mayntnance gett 
Well maye Ben: Johnson say y*" world goes hard. 

This was M"" Ben: Johnsons Answer of y"^ suddayne 

II may Ben Johnson slander so his feete 
for when y" profitt with y® payne doth meete 
Although y'' gate were hard y** gayne is sweete. 
[Harl. MS. 4955; reproduced by W. D. Briggs, Anglia, xxxvii, 470.] 



TO BEN JONSON II9 

Oxford University Register, 16 19. 

19 July 1619, created M. A.: — • 

Johnson, Benjamin; " omni humana litteratura feliciter 
instructus et eo nominea serenissimo rege annua pensione eaque 
satis honorifica honestatus." 

[Register of the University of Oxford, 1571-1622, 1887, ii, 238.] 

Thomas Cooke, 1619. 

Mensis Jenevar Anno Regis Jacobi Decimo Septimo, 16 19. 
Thomas Cooke, one of the Gromes of the Prince his chamber, 
being sent in his Highnes service by ye comand of M"" Welter 
Alexander, Gentellman Usher, Daily Waiter to the Prince his 
Highnes, of two Message two severall tymes from the Court at 
Whithaell into London by Cripellgatt, to warn M'' Ben Johnson 
the Poet, and the Players at the Blackfriers to attend Hys 
Highnes that night following at Court, wch. severall services 
being done, he returned each tyme with answer. . . . 

[Printed in Notes and Queries, 4th S., March 4, 1871, p. 183.] 

Title-page, 1620. 

The Silent Woman. A Comedie. Acted by the Children of 
the Revels. The Author B. lonson. William Stansby sold by 
lohn Browne, . . . 1620. 

Henry Fitzgeoffrey, 1620. 

How many Volumes lye neglected thrust :• 

In every Bench-hole? every heape of dust? ' 

Which from some Gownis practice, Poivder plot. 
Or Tihurne Lecturs, all their substance got: 
Yet tosse our Time-stalles, you'll admire the rout 
Of carelesse fearelesse Pamphlets flye about 
Bookes made of Ballades; Workes of Playes. . . . 

[Certain Elegies, 1620, lib. i, sat. i. The allusion is one of many to 
Jonson's calling his volume of plays The Workes of Benjamin 
Jonson.] 



120 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Taylor, 1620. 

In Paper, many a Poet now survives 
Or else their lines had perish'd with their lives. 
Old Chaucer, Goiver, and Sir Thomas More, 
Sir Philip Sidney who the Lawr^ll wore, 
Spencer, and Shakespeare did in Art excell, 
Sir Edward Dyer, Greene, Nash, Daniel, 
Silvester, Beaumont, Sir John Harrington, 
Forgetfulnesse their workes would over run, 
But that in Paper they immortally 
Doe live in spight of Death, and cannot dye. 

And many there are living at this day 
Which doe in paper their true worth display: 
As Davis, Drayton, and the learned Dun, 
Johnson, and Chapman, Marston, Middleton, 
With Rowley, Fletcher, Withers, Massinger, 
Heywood, and all the rest where e're they are, 
Must say their lines but for the paper sheete 
Had scarcely ground, whereon to set their feete. 
[The Praise of Hemp-seed, 1620; in the 1630 folio, p. 72.] 

John Finett, 1621. 

On Twelfeday following, the Ambassador and his chiefe fol- 
lowers were brought to Court by the Earle of Warwick to be 
present at a Maske [Jonson's News from the New World]; he 
seated as before with the King, the better sort of the other on a 
fourme behind the Lords (the Lord Treasurer onely and the 
Marquesse of Hamilton sitting at the upper end of it) and all 
the rest in a Box, and in the best places of the Scaffolds on the 
right hand of his Majesty. No other Ambassadors were at that 
time present or invited. 

[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, p. 71.] 

Thomas Locke, 162 1. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 7, 1621. 
Entertainments given to the Great Monsieur of France 
[Cadenet], at his first audience on New Year's Eve; on the 4th 



TO BEN JONSON 121 

instant, at the Parliament House; and on the 6th, at a masque 
[Jonson's News from the Nezv World] at Whitehall, where none 
were allowed below the rank of a Baron. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1621, p. 212; cf. p. 214, 
no. 24.] 

John Finett, 162 1. 

When it was thought, that the Spanish Ambassador would 
have held it an indignity, and wrong to his Master, to be present 
at a Maske [Jonson's News from the New World] seen before by a 
French Ambassador (as the last, and the same Maske had been 
by the Mareshall de Cadenet at Twelftide) he appeared at it on 
Shrove-Sunday [February 11] seated at the left hand of his 
Majesty under the State) different from what had been formerly 
resolved on, that no Ambassador in regard of their troublesome 
Puntillious) should any more sit so with his Majesty) and had 
his family placed over a Box at the Kings right hand, in which 
were placed the Spanish Ambassadors two Sons together with 
the Arch-Dutchess Agent. 

[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, p. "jt^.] 

Sackville Crow, 162 1. 

Account [by Sackville Crow] of his disbursements [for Bucking- 
ham], out of i,ooo£. received from Mr. Packer, including ioo£. 
given to Ben Jonson. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, July 21, 1621, p. 277.] 

John Chamberlain, 162 1. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, August 4, 1621. 
On yesterday the King was to be entertained by the Lord of 
Buckingham at Burley in Rutlandshire, a house of the Lord of 
Harington's that he bought of the Lady of Bedford, where was 
great provision of Plays, Masques, and all manner of entertain- 
ment, and this day the Court removes to Belvoir. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 709. 
Jonson's Masque of the Metamorphosed Gipsies was given at Burley, 
August 3. On August 18 Chamberlain wrote to Carleton that the 
King was so much pleased with his entertainment at Buckingham's 
that he made some verses on the subject; see State Papers, cxii, 
no. 77.] 



122 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Joseph Mead, 1621. 

Letter to Sir Martin Stuteville, September 15, 162 1. 

A friend told me this Faire time (Stourbridge) that Ben Jonson 

was not knighted, but scaped it narrowly, for that his majestic 

would have done it, had there not been means made (himself 

not unwilling) to avoyd it. 

[Baker's MSS., xxxii, 355; reproduced in the Gifford-Cunningham 
edition of Jonson, 1871, i, 1.] 

Reversionary Grant, 1621. 

A reversionary grant from the King, by letters patent dated 
October 5, 162 1, of the Office of Master of the Revels, to " our 
beloved servant Benjamin Jonson, gentleman, the said office to 
be held and enjoyed by him and his assigns, during his life, from 
and after the death of Sir George Buc, and Sir John Astley, or as 
soon as the office should become vacant by resignation, forfeiture, 
or surrender." 

[CTrant Book, p. 346.] 

John Chamberlain, 162 1. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, October 27, 1621. 
Ben Jonson's pension is increased from 100 marks to 2oo£. 
A ballad in his masque performed at Burghley was much ap- 
plauded. 

[Catendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1621, p. 303.] 

John Chamberlain, 1621. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carletofi, November 77, 1621. 
Dr. Donne is to be Dean of St. Paul's, so that if Ben Jonson 
could be Dean of Westminster, St. Paul's, Westminster, and 
Christchurch would each have a poetical Dean. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1621, p. 310.] 

Robert Burton, 1621. 

And where shall a man walk, converse with whom, in what 
Province, City, and not meet with Signior Deliro, or Hercules 
Furens, Menades, and Corybantes? 



TO BEN JONSON 123 

Many men to fetch over a young woman, . . . will not stick 
to . . . feign any thing comes next, . . . how bravely they will 
maintain her, like any Lady, Countess, Duchess, or Queen; 
they shall have gowns, tiers, jewels, coaches, and caroches, choice 
diet, 

The heads of Parrots, tongues of Nightingals, . 

The brains of Peacocks, and of Estriches, 

Their hath shall he the juice of Gilliflowers, 

Spirit of Roses, and of Violets, 

The milk of Unicorns, cfc. 

as old Vulpone courted Ccelia in the Comoedy. . . . 

* * * * 

'Tis a great fault (for some men are uxorii) to be too fond of 
their wives, to dote on them as Senior Deliro on his Fallace. . . . 

[The Anatomy of Melancholy, 1621; edited by A. R. Shiletto, i, 134, 
iii, 141, iii, 307. Delirio and Fallace appear in Every Man Out 
of his Humor; the verses are quoted from Volpone, iii, 6.] 

John Finett, 1622. 

Twelftide appearing, and a Maske [Jonson's Masque of Augurs] 
being to be presented by the Prince and other Lords and Gentle- 
men, my Lord Chamberlaine gave me in charge to repaire to 
the Venetian Ambassador, Seigniour Girolenio Landi, with this 
message as from himself (with request of his Secrecy) That where- 
as he had told him two or three days before that no Ambassador 
should be invited to the Maske (as the King had signified to him 
his intention) he perceived that the Spanish Ambassador (the 
Count of Gondemar) had under-hand pressed his Majesty to be 
invited, so as not to appear to have doubled with him in what he 
had told him, he bade me let his Excellency know, that if he 
would for forme sake be invited and frame some excuse for his 
not comming, he would himselfe (as from his Majesty) send him 
an invitation. But if he would be really invited and come, his 
request should be, that he would make his way to it by the 
Marquis of Buckingham. When I had delivered this message to 
the Ambassador in hearing of his Secretary (whom he called in) 
he made answer. That for excuse of his not comming (though for 



124 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

forme invited) he would never give that advantage to the Spanish 
Ambassador to say of him, that one day he would be well, and 
another ill for his satisfaction (as he knew some had been) as if 
he stood in awe of him; and for the other point of making his 
way by the Marquis of Buckingham, he would never do it, since 
he had aJwayes (he said) made his access to his Majesties Presence 
by the right door of the Lord Chamberlain, and would now enter 
by no other. 

But since he saw (he said) what this tenderness meant, he 
desired me to intreat his Lordship in his name, that he would be 
pleased to go directly to his Majesty, and by way of remem- 
brance (no otherwise) put him in mind from him, That the last 
year the French Ambassador Extraordinary Monsieur de Cadenet, 
and the Ordinary Monsieur de Tilliers were invited to the Prince 
his Maske at Christmas, and the Spanish Ambassador to the 
same Maske repeated at Shrovetide, to which he could and might 
justly have taken Exceptions, that he was both times omitted, 
but that the King of Bohemiaes Ambassador, being not then (no 
more then he) invited, he was content to suffer with him; but 
that now (though he might in reason expect, that he should be 
(as in his turne) invited alone, he would not be so punctuall, 
but would referre all to his Majesties pleasure, yet if any other 
Ambassador should be invited he would expect the like honour, 
as a respect due to the Prince and State he represented, who in 
all publicke places had, and were to have entertainment il par 
delle teste Coronate equall with Crowned Kings. And as for the 
Spanish Ambassador (he said) his presence at the Maske should 
not be an Exclusion to him with whom though he had no cor- 
respondency of business nor visits, he had yet of Salutation and 
civill respects, which had many times in incounters in the 
Streets, passed between them, and might and should pass on his 
part at the Mask, if he should there meete him: This message 
returned by me to the Lord Chamberlaine, and seconded at the 
same time by the Ambassadors Secretary, and my Lord conveying 
it to the King, his Majesty was pleased that he should be (as he 
was the next day) invited, and was at the Maske entertained 
with the like respect as was the Spanish Ambassador. The 



TO BEN JONSON 1 25 

States Ambassadors were not at the same time invited with 
respect to the incompatibihty between them and the Spanish, 
and the Russian then here might with as Httle reason expect it, 
in regard he had questioned precedence of all other Kings 
Ministers. The French Ambassador had an Invitation pro 
forma tanttim, with a civill request of his next comming to avoid 
question, which it seemes, he tooke not with discontent, because 
his Wife and Neece were there present invited. . 
[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 91-92.] 

The Venetian Ambassador, 1622. 

Girolamo Lando, Venetian Ambassador in England, to the Doge 
and Seriate, January 21 \0.S. ii\, 1622. 

There was some idea not to invite me to the masque [Jonson's 
Masqiie of Augurs], which is one of the two annual ceremonies 
attended by the ambassadors. France was not asked because 
Spain had been. When I heard that they proposed to leave me 
out because Spain and I did not visit each other, I tactfully 
contrived to convey that your Serenity ought not to be deprived 
of the customary honour on that account, and finally I gained 
my point, to which I attached importance. The ceremony was 
most sumptuous. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Venetian, xv'ii, 216.] 

John Finett, 1622. 

The night following [i.e. May 6, but really May 5] was repre- 
sented a Maske [Jonson's Masque of Augurs], Acted the Christmas 
before by the Prince &c. At which were present (seated with his 
Majesty) the Spanish Ambassadors Don Carlos de Colonna, and 
the Count de Gondemar, though this had taken his leave three 
or four dayes before, his Son and other their Followers of quality 
had their seates neere the King in a Scaffold on his right hand; 
the rest of them were bestowed together with the States, and 
other strangers promiscuously on a Scaffold behind the King, 
over the entrance there on the left hand of his Majesty. The 
young Landsgrave of Hess was brought in by me the back way 
through the Garden, and supping with the Duke of Lenox (as 



126 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

did also the Baron of Paperherin remaining here after the depar- 
ture of the Emperours Ambassador) was seated amongst the 
great Ladies. 

The French Ambassador Monsieur de Tillier receiving a kind 
of Invitation, by way of offer, to be present at this Maske, 
returned answer, that he most humbly kissed his Majesties 
handes for the honour intended him; but his stomach would 
not (he said) agree with cold meat, and desired therefore his 
absence might be pardoned, hereby pointing at the Invitation 
and presence of the Spanish Ambassador in the first place at the 
same Maske the Christmas before now repeated. 
[Finetli Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 105-106.] 

John Chamberlain, 1622. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, May 11, 1622. 
Barclay's Argenis has grown so scarce that the price has risen 
from 55. to 145.; the King has ordered Ben Jonson to translate it, 
but he will not be able to equal the original. . . . The King is 
at Greenwich or Eltham, and supped with the Lord Treasurer 
at Chelsea on May-day. At a masque [Jonson 's Masque of 
Augurs] he sat between Gondomar and Don Carlos de Colonna 
the new Spanish Ambassador 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1622, p. 390.] 

Title-pages, 1622. 
The Masque of Augures. With several Antimasques. Pre- 
sented on Twelfe night. 162 1. [N.d.] 

Ben Jonson his Motives. 1622. 8vo. 

[Anthony a Wood, in Athence Oxonienses (ed. Bliss, 1815, ii, 614), 
mentions this second item among Jonson's published works; 
W. C. Hazlitt, Hand-Book, p. 307, describes it as "a tract relating 
to his differences with Inigo Jones." No copy is known, and 
Wood may have been in error.] 

John Harriot, 1622. 

The Stationer to the Reader. 
I entreated him [Wither] to explain his meaning in certain 
obscure passages; but he told me how that were to take away 



TO BEN JONSON ' 1 27 

the employment of his interpreters. Whereas, he would pur- 
posely leave somewhat remaining doubtful, to see what Sir 
Politic Would-be and his companions could pick out of it. 

[Prefixed to George Wither's Faire-Virtue, 1622, and signed John 
Harriot. Sir Politic Would-be is a character in Volpone.] 

George Wither, 1622. 
Readers; I speake to you that have understanding; when 
these first fruites of my infant Muses shall come to your iudicious 
censures; doe not looke for Spencers or Daniels well-composed 
numbers; or the deepe conceits of now-flourishing lohnson. 
Say, 'Tis honest plaine matter, and there's as much as I expect. 
(To the Reader, p, 17.) 

But what need any man therein speake more 

Than Divine Sidney hath already done? 

For whom (though he deceas'd ere I begun) 

I have oft sighed, and bewailed my Fate, 

That brought me forth so many yeeres too late 

To view that Worthy; And now thinke not you 

Oh Daniel, Drayton, lohnson. Chapman, how 

I long to see you with your fellow Peeres, 

Sylvester matchlesse, glory of these yeeres: 

I hitherto have onely heard your fames, 

And know you yet but by your Workes and Names: 

The little time I on the earth have spent, 

Would not allow me any more content: 

I long to know you better, that's the truth, 

I am in hope you'l not disdaine my Youth: 

For know you Muses Darlings, He not crave 

A fellowship amongst you for to have, 

Oh no ; for though my ever-willing-hart 

Have vow'd to love and praise You and your Art, 

And though that I your stile doe now assume, 

I doe not, nor I will not so presume; 

I claime not that too-worthy name of Poet; 

It is not yet deserv'd by me, I know it: 



128 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Grant me I may but on your Muses tend, 

And be enroul'd their Servant, or their Friend ; 

And if desert hereafter worthy make me, 

Then for a Fellow (if it please you) take me. (P. 292 ff.) 

[Abuses Stript and Whipt, 1622, reprinted in the Spenser Society Publi- 
cations, 1 87 1.] 

Reversionary Grant, 1622. 

Grant to Wm. Painter of the reversion of the office of Master of 
the Revels, after Ben Jonson, who now holds the reversion after 
Sir Geo. Btick and Sir John Ashley. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 1622, p. 432.] 

Sir William Burlase, about 1622. 

The Painter to the Poet. 
To paint thy worth, if rightly I did know it, 
And were but painter half like thee, a poet: 
Ben, I would shew it. 

But in this skill my unskilful pen will tire, 
Thou, and thy worth will still be found far higher; 
And I a liar. 

Then, what a painter's here! or what an eater 
Of great attempts! when as his skill's no greater. 
And he a cheater? 

Then, what a poet's here! whom, by confession 
Of all with me, to paint without digression. 
There's no expression. 

[From the Gifford-Cunningham edition of Jonson, 1871, iii, 330. In 
his Underwoods Jonson prints a reply, The Poet to the Painter, An 
Answer.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1623. 

Upon New-years day at night The Alchemist was acted by the 

kings players. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, 1917, 
Plays and Masques at Court, p. 49.] 



TO BEN JONSON. 129 

John Finett, 1623. 

A Maske [Jonson's Time Vindicated] to be presented by the 

Prince, the Marquis of Buckingham, and other Gentlemen on 

Twelfnight, 1622. was for that day, and a second remitted till 

Sunday the ninth of January, principally with regard to his 

Majesties indisposition, but as some thought, not without 

expectation that the States Ambassadors would first be gone, to 

avoide the distaste that might be taken from their not Invitation, 

whereto it seemed his Majesty (for some Spanish respect as was 

thought) had no great affection. But they staying, (their 

business with the Merchants, about composing the East-Indian 

differences being not yet concluded) divers underhand passages, 

and discourses for and against the sight of the Maske, were 

carried to and fro as much as might be to content them, and not 

displease others. For first, they had an offer made them to have a 

Boxe appointed them apart and by themselves only, which they 

absolutely refused. Ambassadors Ordinarie before having had 

(said they) the honour to sit with his Majesty in the same place 

together with the French, and other Kings Ambassadors (as 

also with the Spanish, till that Question fell between him and 

Sir Noell Caron) but the intention in truth was, that they should 

not then be invited (at least to be ranked in publick, as they 

pretented it to be their due al par delle Teste Coronate) and 

reasons were framed to keep them ofif from discontent, as well as 

from their apparence there, but they might seem not of the 

Substantiallest. [The English Court was forced in the end to 

refuse outright to invite the Ambassadors from Holland to the 

masque.] . . . Onely a dozen of their followers had places 

assigned them over the Lord Chamberlains Box at the entrance 

into the Banquetting House from the Princes Galleries. . . . 

The French Ambassador that night, and the Venetian supped 

with the Duke of Lenox, and entered the Roome with the King, 

both seated there on his left hand; the French even with him, 

and the Venetian somewhat more forward. 

[FinettiPhiloxenis, 16^6, lip. ii$-\6. Cf. Public Record Office, Lord 
Chamberlain's Books, Class Miscellaneous 5, No. i, p. 115, May 
7, 1622. See also Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, 
1623, p. 480.] 



I30 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1623. 

Upon Sonday, being the 19th of January, the Princes Masque 
[Time Vindicated] appointed for Iwelfe daye, was performed. 
The speeches and songs composed by Mr. Ben. Johnson, and the 
scene made by Mr. Inigo Jones, which was three tymes changed 
during the tyme of the masque: where in the first that was 
discovered was a prospective of Whitehall, with the Banqueting 
House; the second was the Masquers in a cloud; and the third 
a forrest. The French embassador was present. 

[TJie Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 50.] 

John Chamberlain, 1623. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 25, 1622. 
My very goode Lord: yt is somewhat long since I wrote and 
longer since I heard from you till yesterday that I receved yo" 
of the 27*'' of this present, the cause of my silence was the often 
deferring of the maske [Time Vindicated] and the k's removing 
caused by his indisposition, for here was nothing to write of but 
dauncing and feasting w"^ was more frequent all this Christmas 
then ever I knew or remember, and continues ever since even 
till now, but the departure of the French ambassadors Lady w*'* 
her niece madamoiselle S* Luc (who bare a principall part in all 
these meetings) was the cause that the maske could not well be 
put of longer then sonday last, the french and Venetian am- 
bassadors were present and they say yt was performed reasonablie 
I well both for the device, and for the handsome conveyance and 
varietie of the scene whereof Innigo Jones hath the whole com- 
mendation. Ben Johnson they say is like to heare of yt on 
both sides of the head for personating George Withers a poet or 
poetaster as he termes him, as hunting after fame by beeing a 
crono-mastix or whipper of the time, w'^'^ is become so tender 
an argument that yt must not be touched either in iest or earnest. 

[State Papers, Domestic, James I, vol. cxxxvii, no. 27. Cf. Nichols, 
Progresses, iii, 802; Court and Times of James I, ii, 356. Miss 
Sullivan, in Court Masques of James I, p. 246, dates the letter 
January 20, but internal evidence points to the later date.] 



TO BEN JONSON 131 

John Chamberlain, 1624. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January j, 1624. 
Here is much practising against the masque [Neptune's Tri- 
umph] at Twelfth-night, and many meetings at Noblemen's 
houses in the afternoons; as, yesterday the Prince, with the 
rest of the retinue, were at the Lord of Bridgewater's, where they 
had a great banquet, and afterwards went home to supper, as 
the usual manner is. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 947. 1 

Title-page, 1624? 

Neptunes Triumph for the returne of Albion, celebrated in a 
Masque at the Court on the Twelfth night 1623. 

[This masque was prepared for Twelfth Night, but was not presented. 
The above edition has neither printer's name nor date. The 
statement on the title-page, combined with the details of the 
presentation, suggest that it was printed in anticipation of the 
actual performance.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1624. 

Upon Twelfe Night [January 6, 1624], the maske [Neptune' s^ 
Triumph] being put off. More Dissemblers besides Women, hy 
the King's company, the prince only being there. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 51.]. 

John Finett, 1624. 

A Maske [Neptune's Triumph] being prepared by the Prince 
(with the Duke of Buckingham, and others &c.) for Twelfnight 
a message was sent from his Majesty to the French Ambassador 
(by whom carried I could not learne) to this purpose. That 
whereas there was a Maske towards, and that his Majesty was 
desirous that the Marquess de la Inojosa, who had not scene 
any in this Kingdome, should be at it, he intended to visit him 
also (the French Ambassador, and in the first place, but would' 
take it, as a respect to his satisfaction, if (to avoid the incounter,, 
and question about their Precedence) he might before hand know, 
that he would be absent, framing some such excuse, as he should 



132 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

think fittest. To this the Ambassador returning at that instant 
no satisfieing answer, he soone after intreated the Earle of 
March to present one from him to his Majesty in these words. 
That about two yeares since upon the hke occasion, he had 
received the Hke message, but knowing how strongly his Majesty 
stood then affected to the AlHence with Spaine, he would give 
him no distast, but with excuse of his indisposition kept himselfe 
absent, that if he should now againe do the like, he should in the 
sight of the world put a scorne upon himselfe, and do an un- 
answerable wrong to the King his Master, between whom, and 
the King of Spaine his Majesty knew (if he would be pleased to 
declare his knowledge) that there was no question to be made of 
the right of Precedence; that in this regard, he humbly beseecht 
his Majesty to proceed plainely, and fairely without useing any 
more colourable, or alternative Invitations (as he had done,) 
which might imply a Parity, in no sort to be yeelded to by the 
King his Master, in whom was the absolute right of Priority. 
That if his Majesty intended to invite him, he hoped he would 
intend also to entertain him with fitting respects, for come he 
would, if he should be invited, and if he should not, and the other 
[the Spanish Ambassador] should, he would protest against it, 
and immediately returne home to the King his Master with the 
account of his Treatment. That further his Majesty would be 
pleased to consider, that whereas he was at that instant sending 
a Person of quality to the King his Master, he might with reason 
expect, that whatsoever want, or omission he (the French 
Ambassador) should meet with here, it w^ould be returned in 
France in the same measure. This message (the substance 
whereof he repeated to me two or three dayes after) was brought 
little sooner to the King, then it was made known to the Marquess 
de la Inojosa, who instantly sent for the Master of the Ceremonies, 
and in a storming manner gave him a message (repeating it 
twice or thrice) to be delivered to his Majesty by him in this 
sence; that he knew what respect had been formerly given the 
King of Spaines (his Masters Ministers) especially those that 
had been here Extraordinary, and what alternative course of 
invitation had been used with them, and the French; that he 



TO BEN JONSON 1 33 

looked for no less honour to be done to him then to his Prede- 
cessors, and that since it was both his right and his turne to be 
now invited, he would expect it, beseeching his Majesty not 
underhand to invite the French Ambassadors (as he knew (he 
said) he was intended) but to invite him directly, and openly 
first, and only, that so if (he Inojosa) m.ust be made a Subject 
for gazers abroad, it might be to som_e purpose, and that he 
might have a just, and an apparent cause to write to his Master 
of the wrong done him here in his Minister, with other words in 
an high Spanish Stile to that purpose, which when the Master of 
the Ceremonies had twice or thrice requested him to temper, 
to take time to think better of them, and to com.municate his 
intended m.essage with his Collegue {Don Carlos) he only yeelded 
to satisfie him. in this last of communicating his intention (as he 
did that night with that much more temperate and considerate 
Gentleman) from, whom wresting (as Don Carlos himself after 
acknowledged) a consent for the carriage of that m.essage to the 
King by Sir Lewes Leivkner, the Maske was thereupon respited &c. 

[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 133-35. See also Lord Chamberlain's 
Office, Class Miscellaneous, 5, no. i, pp. 148 ff., reprinted by Miss 
Mary Sullivan, Court Masques of James I, p. 247.] 

John Chamberlain, 1624. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January ly, 1624. 
The Masque [Neptmie's Triumph] for Twelfth-night was put 
off by reason of the King's indisposition, as was pretended; but 
the true cause is thought to be the competition of the French and 
Spanish Ambassadors, which could not be accommodated in 
Presence. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 960.] 

John Chamberlain, 1624. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, June ig, 1624. 
Sends convivial laws of Ben Jonson, laid down for a chamber 
in the inn of the Devil and St. Dunstan, by Temple Bar. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, clxviii, no. 8.] 



134 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Chamberlain, 1624. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, August 21 , 1624. 
Young Maynard wrote a masque, which was acted before the 
King at Burghley, with Httle applause; Ben Jonson wrote one 
to be performed before the King at Killingworth, whilst the 
King was at Warwick. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, James I, \o\. clxxi, no. 66.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1624. 

1624, December 27. Upon St. John's night, [the prince] and 
the duke of Brunswick being there, The Fox, by the [King's 
Men]. At Whitehall. 

For the Palsgrave's Company ; A new Play, called, The Masque. 

The masque book was allowed of for the press; and was brought 

me by Mr. Jon[son] the 29th December 1624. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, pp. 52, 
30, 41. The second entry seems to be confused; for a possible 
explanation see op. cit., p. 30, note 3.] 

A[braham] H[olland], 1625. 

A generall Folly reigneth, and harsh Fate 

Hath made the World it selfe insatiate! 

It hugges these Monsters and deformed things, 

Better than what lohnson or Drayton sings: 

As in North-Villages, where euery line 

Of Plumpton Parke is held a worke diuine. 

[A Continued Inquisition against Paper-Persecutors, in A. B. Grosart> 
The Complete Works of John Davies, 1878, ii, 80.] 

John Finett, 1625. 

The fourth of January I received Order for the invitation of 
the French Ambassador (the Marquess de Fiat) the Venetian 
Seignior Pesaro (not long before arrived here in place of Seignior 
Valeresso) and two Agents Monsieur Brumeau for the King of 
Spaine, and Monsieur Van Mai for the Archdutches) to a Maske 
[Jonson's The Fortunate Isles] of the Prince, with certaine Lords 
and Gentlemen on Twelf night. I propounded, and obtained of 



TO BEN JONSON 1 35 

the Venetian that he would (Sir Lewes Lewkner being then absent) 
call in his way to Court, and accompany thither the French 
Ambassadors, that I might with one labour attend them both, 
and introduce them (as I had directions) by the Parke through 
the Galleries at eight of the clock at night (the place, and hour 
assigned also the Agents) but being the next morning, assured 
by the Prince himself, that the Maske was to be put off till 
Sunday the ninth of January, I was upon his Highness intimation 
sent to disinvite them all which I performed with the French 
personally, and with the rest by Letter. But on Saturday re- 
invited them for the next day, when about four of the clock, the 
Marquess Hamilton, (Lord Steward of his Majesties Household) 
then supplying the place of the Lord Chamberlaine indisposed) 
gave me in charge to repaire to the Ambassadors, and to let them 
know, that in regard of the inconveniency that would grow from 
the intrusion of multitudes of people by the way of the Galleries 
(if they were left open) he desired they would enter the Court by 
the great Gate, and thence pass for their repose to the Marquesses 
Lodgings, till the King should come by, and take them along 
with him. This intimation was given also to the two Agents, 
who had the same Order for their Entrance as the former, but 
were likewise diverted, and conducted to a Roome apart in my 
Lord Stewards Lodgins, which was so ordered of design to avoid 
their, and the French Ambassadors incounter, not with appre- 
hension of strife for place, their difference of qualities of Agents 
and Ambassadors clearing all such question, but of distast 
perhaps to either from their incompatibility; a regard taken 
also in placing their Followers in severall Scaffolds to avoid 
differences and wranglings that might occure even amongst 
those of inferior condition, if seated promiscuously together in a 
Scaffold; a provisionable care that the King himself had, and 
expressed it that day at his Dinner. The Ambassadors were 
seated with the King (as accustomed) and the Agents bestowed 
amongst the Lords, beneath Earles, and above Barons. 

[Finetti Philoxenis, 1656, pp. 143-44. See also Lord Chamberlain's 
Office, Class Miscellaneous, 5, no. i, pp. 164 ff., reprinted by Miss 
Mary Sullivan, Court Masques of James I, p. 248.] 



136 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Chamberlain, 1625. 

Letter to Sir Dudley Carleton, January 8, 1625. 
We should have had a Masque [The Fortunate Isles] on Twelfth- 
night, but it was put off till to-morrow, and perhaps longer or 
altogether, as it was last year. 

[The Progresses of King James the First, J. B. Nichols, 1828, iii, 1027.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1625. 

Upon Twelve night [January 6, 1625], the Masque [The For- 
tunate Isles] being put of, and the prince only there, Tu Quogue 
by the Queene of Bohemias servants. At Whitehall, 1624. 

Upon the Sonday night following, being the ninthe of January 
1624, the Masque [The Fortunate Isles] was performed. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 52.] 

Title-page, 1625? 

The Fortunate Isles and their Vnion, celebrated in a Masque 
design'd for the Court, on the Twelfth night. 1624. 

Caleb Morley, about 1625. 

Coppie of a noate of Mr. Morleys, had fro Oxford. Whereas 
Caleb Morley Mr. of Arts & sometymes fellowe of Baliel Colledg 
in ye Universitie of Oxon hath intended & laboured a speedie 
and certaine Course for ye attayning & retayninge of languages & 
other partes of good literature purposed for ye generall ease & 
benifit of ye studious in either kinde. We whose names are 
under written & of ye same Universitie purpose & promise our 
best furtherance »& assistance therein on his bebalfe by our 
Countenance «& Labours to our powers not onlie to welcome but 
also to helpe such a labour pretended for ours provided that any 
Contribution of money from us be always excepted. 

Sir Robert Cotton, Sir Henry Spilman, Dr. Rives (?) Advoc. 
Regis, Dr. Duck, Cancillar, Londi., Dr. Baskevile, Med. Dr., Dr. 

Andrews, Med. Dr., Mr. S , Theolog., Mr. Adsworth (?), 

Theolog., Mr. Selden, Gentl., Mr. Benjam. Johnson, Mr. Mathew 
Bust, Mr. of Eaton School, Mr. Farnaby, Heynes (?), Mr. 
Robinson Scholar of Winchester, S. 



TO BEN JONSON 1 37 

[MS. in SI. 1466 ff., f. 16; reprinted by W. D. Briggs, Modern Philology, 
xi, 287. Many great persons seem to have interested themselves 
in Morley's project. On October 28, 1624, Conway writes to the 
Bishop of London saying that "the King wishes his opinion on a 
new alphabet invented by Mr. Morley, a minister, for the more 
easy attaining of languages, for the sole printing and publishing 
of which he requests a patent."] 

Richard James, 1625. 

To Mr. Benj: Jhonson on his Staple of News first presented. 
Sir, if my robe and garbe were richly worth 
The dainger of a statute comming forth, 
Were I or man of law or law m^aker. 
Or man of Courte to be an undertaker; 
For judgement would I then comme in and say 
The m.anye honours of your staple play: 
But being nothing so, I dare not haile 
The mightie floates of ignorance, whoe faile 
With winde and tide; their Sires, as stories tell. 
In our eight Harriets time crownd Skeltons Nell, 
And y^ foule Boss of Whittington with greene 
Bayes, which on living frontes are rarelye scene; 
Soone sprung soone fading; but deserving verse, 
Must take more lasting glorie from y*^ herse; 
When vulgars loose their sight, and sacred peeres 
Of poetrie conspire to m.ake your yeeres 
Of memorie eternall, then you shalbe read 
By all our race of Thespians, board and bed; 

. And banck and boure, vallie and mountaine will 
Rejoice to knowe somme pieces of your skill; 
Your rich Mosaique workes, inled by arte 
And curious industrie with everie parte 
And choice of all y** Anncients. — So I write, 
Though for your sake I dare not say and fighte. 

[The Poems, etc., of Richard James, ed. A. B. Grosart, 1880, p. 221.] 

Richard James, 1625. 

Some lohnson, Drayton, or some Herick would 
Before this time have characted the Mould 



138 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Of his perfections; and in living Lines, 

Have made them knowne before these mourning times. 

[The Muses Dirge, consecrated to the Remembrance of the High and Mightie 
Monarch, James, 1625; in The Poems, etc., of Richard James, ed. 
A. B. Grosart, 1880, p. 121.] 

Richard James, about 1625. 

Ad Doct. Franciscu James. 

Tertullianus, Cyprianus, Chrysostomus acriter invehunter in 

artem Roscianam et spectacula. * * * Credo si reviviscerent 

ja patres ilU Hbenter spectarent ingeniu foecundissimi Beniamini 

Jonsoni, quern ut Thuanus de Petro Ronsardo censeo cu omni 

antiquitate comparandu si compta et plena sensibus poemata 

ejus et scenica spectemus: cui non Catullianum illud et Martialis 

sunt in apologia. Nam castu esse decet piu poetam ipsum: 

versiculos nihil necesse est, et 

innocuous censura potest permittere lusus 

Lasciva est nobis pagina, vita proba est: 

Sed chartam amat vita innocentiorem, ut quam reposcet in 

aevu longu elegantiorum manus, cum pulvis et umbra tantu 

fuerit tam virginis chartae pater: 

Ede tuos tandem populo Jonsone libellos 

Et cultum docto pectore profer opus 

Quod nee Cecropise damnent Pandionis artes 

Nee sileant nostri, prsetereantque senes. 

Ante fores stantem dubitas admittere famam 

Teque piget fam» pra?mia ferre tua? 

Post te victura? per te quoque vivere chartse 

Incipiant, cineri gloria fera venit. 

[From a MS. volume of letters by Richard James; reprinted by A. B. 
Grosart in his edition of The Poems, etc. of Richard James, 1880, 
pp. Iv-lvi.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1626. 

John Waterson 

14 Aprill 

Entred for his Copie under the handes of Master Doctor 
Worrall and Master Islip warden A booke Called The 
Staple of Newes being a Comedie vj*^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iv, 156.] 



TO BEN JONSON 139 

William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, 1626, 

Of the Entertainments he made for King Charles the First. 

When his Majesty was going into Scotland to be crowned, he 
took his way through Nottinghamshire; and lying at Worksop 
Manor, hardly two miles distant from Welbeck, where my Lord 
then was, my Lord invited his Majesty thither to a dinner, which 
he was graciously pleased to accept of. This entertainment 
cost my Lord between four and five thousand pounds; which 
his majesty liked so well, that a year after his return out of 
Scotland, he was pleased to send my Lord word, that her Majesty 
the Queen was resolved to make a progress into the northern 
parts, desiring him to prepare the like entertainment for her, 
as he had formerly done for him. Which my Lord did, and 
endeavoured for it with all possible care and industry, sparing 
nothing that might add splendour to that feast, which both their 
Majesties were pleased to honour with their presence: Ben 
Jonson he employed in fitting such scenes and speeches as he 
could best devise; and sent for all the gentry of the country to 
come and wait on their Majesties; and, in short, did all that ever 
he could imagine, to render it great, and worthy their royal 
acceptance. 

[The Life of William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, by Margaret Caven- 
dish, 1667, ed. C. H. Firth, 1886, pp. 190-92.] 

Michael Drayton, 1627. 

Of Poets and Poesie. 
Next these, learn'd lohnson, in this List I bring, 
Who had drunke deepe of the Pierian spring. 
Whose knowledge did him worthily prefer. 
And long was Lord here of the Theater, 
Who in opinion made our learn'st to sticke, 
Whether in Poems rightly dramatique, 
Strong Seneca or Plautus, he or they, 
Should beare the Buskin, or the Socke away. 
[The Battaile of Agincourl, etc., 1627, p. 207.] 



140 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Tradition, before 1628. 

Ben: Johnson was at a taverne and in comes Bishoppe Corbett 

(but not so then) into the next roome; Ben: Johnson calls for a 

quart of raw wine, gives it the tapster: "Sirrha," sayes he, 

"carry this to the gentleman in the next chamber, and tell him 

I sacrifice my service to him"; the fellow did so, and in those 

words: "Friend," sayes Dr. Corbett, "I thanke him for his love; 

but pr'y thee tell hym from me hee's mistaken, for sacrifices 

"are allwayes burn't." 

[Printed from Sir Nicholas L 'Estrange, Merry Passages and Jests, 
Harl. MS. 6395, by William J. Thorns, in Anecdotes a?id Traditions, 
Camden Society, 1839, pp. 29-30.] 

London City Records, 1628. 

Martis secundo die Septembris 1628 Annoque R Rs Caroli 
Angliae, etc., quarto. 

Item: this dale Beniamyn Johnson Gent is by this Court 
admitted to be the Citties Chronologer in place of Mr. Thomas 
Middleton deceased, to have hold exercise and enioye the same 
place and to have and receive for that his service out of the 
Chamber of London the some of one hundred Nobles per annum 
to contynue duringe the pleasure of this Court and the First 
quarters payment to beginn att Michaelmas next. 
[Extract from the City Records, Rep. No. 42, fol. 271.] 

Examination, 1628. 

Examination of Benjamin Jonson, of Westminster, gent., 
taken by Attorney General Heath. Saw certain verses begin- 
ning, "Enjoy thy bondage," and ending, "England's ransom 
here doth lie," and entitled, "To his confined Friend, &c.," at 
Sir Robert Cotton's house at Westminster. Coming there, as he 
often does, these verses lying on the table after dinner, he was 
asked concerning them as if he had been their author. Protests 
the contrary, on his Christianity and hope of salvation. Heard 
of them with detestation. Heard by common fame that one 
Zouch Townley made them, a scholar and a divine, and a student 
of Christ Church, Oxford. On a Sunday after examinant had 



TO BEN JONSON 141 

heard Mr. Townley preach at St. Margaret's in Westminster, 
Mr. Townley taking a hking to a dagger with a white haft 
which examinant wore at his girdle, examinant gave it to him 
two nights after, being invited by Townley to supper, but without 
any relation to these verses. 

[Calendar of State Papers, vol. cxix, no. 33, October 26, 1628.] 

William Davenant, 1629. 

Flo[rell6\. D'ye walk like Neptune in a masque 
Attended on by two o' th' calm winds? 

[The Just Italian, IV. i. The allusion is to Jonson's Fortunate Isles.] 

Thomas May, 1629. 

To my ivorthy friend, John Ford. 
'Tis said, from Shakspeare's mine your play you drew: 
What need? — when Shakspeare still survives in you; 
But grant it were from his vast treasury reft. 
That plund'rer Ben ne'er made so rich a theft. 

[Reprinted in Malone's Shakespeare, ed. Boswell, 1821, i, 405. The 
play referred to is The Lover's Melancholy. Cf. the entry "En- 
dymion Porter, before 1635."] 

Francis Lenton, 1629. 

He better loves Ben Johnson's booke of playes. 

But that therein of wit he finds such plenty. 

That hee scarce understands a jest of twenty. 

[The Young Gallants Whirligigg, 1629; in Shakespeare Society Publica- 
tions, 1846, p. 126.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1629. 

1628-9, January 19. The New Inn, by Ben Jonson, licensed. 
[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 32.] 

Treasurer of Westminster Abbey, 1629. 

Jan. 19, i628[9]. Given by Dr. Price to Mr. Beniamin Jhonson 
in his sickness and want; w**" consent of Dr. Price, Dr. Sutton, 
Dr. Grant, Dr. Holt, Dr. Darel, and my Lord of Lincoln's good 
likinge signified by Mr. Osbalston 5". 



142 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

This I sent to Dr. Price, February 24, by Tho. Bush, 

[An Entry in the Accounts of the Treasurer of Westminster Abbey; 
see The Antiquary, xH, 70.] 

Joseph Webbe, 1629. 

A Letter hreefly totiching the large extent & infinite use, of yt little 
boo.ke called Entheatus Materialis primus, lately written by ye 
Author of yt booke, to his deare & lovinge frend Air. Benjamin 
Johnson. And his answere. 
Mr. Benjamin Johnson, eldest sonne of our Brittaine muses: 

J. W. wisheth Bayes; a marble, or some brasen statua; & 

perpetuall memory. 

Deare Brother 

Within ye circuite of my best acquaintance, I find none of 
Apollo's Judges to grace more ye seate of his Justice either 
with gravity of person, multiciplicitie of reading, or depht of 
understanding; than you doe. Nor find I any, from w'm I 
should more joyful! receive applause for good; or more patiently 
tollerate, rebuke for ill; than from ye doome of yours discretion. 
Give mee therefore leave to intreate none but you to lift the 
Bilance betweene my last booke, & some ill Savouring breath of 
Malice, now call'd emulation; &, to make a just report of both 
theyre valewes. 

[Webbe then goes on to complain of the envious strictures 
that have been passed upon him, to ask Jonson to judge between 
him and his critics, to give a complex mathematical demonstra- 
tion ot the principle of his book, and at length concludes:] 

Though much more may be sayde ir ye behalfe of this little 
booke: yet let this sufihce for ye present. And let report & it 
bee judg'd by your opinion. Meane while I rest. 

Your devouted frend 

and brother 
Joseph. Webbe. 
Glassenbury house 
in Smithfield, Jan: 
20, i628[-9]: 

[SI. MS. 1466 ff., 203 f., printed by W. D. Briggs, Modern Philology, 
xi, 286. Jonson's answer appears to be lost.] 



TO BEN JONSON 143 

James Shirley, 1629. 

To the Right Honoiirahle Francis, Earl oj Rutland, &c. 
My most honoured Lord, 

When the age dechneth from her primitive virtue, and the 
silken wits of the time, (that I may boirow from our acknowl- 
edged master, learned Jonson) disgracing nature, and harmonious 
poesy, are transpoited with many illiterate and prodigious births, 
it is not safe to appear without protection. . . . 
[Dedication of The Grateful Servant, 1629.] 

William Habington, 1629. 

. . . Go forward still; and when his Muse expires, 
Whose English stains the Greek and Latin lyres, 
Divinest Jonson, live to make us see 
The glory of the stage reviv'd in thee. 

[Gratulatory poem to James Shirley, prefixed to The Grateful Servant, 
1629.] 

Thomas Randolph, about 1629. 

A71 Answer to Master Ben. Jonson'' s Ode, to persuade 

him not to leave the Stage. 
Ben, do not leave the stage, 
'Cause 'tis a loathsome age; 
For pride and impudence will grow too bold 
When they shall hear it told 

They frightened thee. Stand high, as is thy cause; 
Their hiss is thy applause. 
More just were thy disdain. 
Had they approv'd thy vein. 
So thou for them and they for thee were born. 
They to incense, and thou as much to scorn. 

Wilt thou engross thy store 

Of wheat, and pour no more 

Because their bacon-brains have such a taste 

As more delight in mast? 

No; set 'em forth a board of dainties full, 

As thy best muse can cull ; 



144 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

While they the while do pine 

And thirst 'midst all their wine. 

What greater plague can hell itself devise, 

Than to be willing thus to tantalise? 

Thou canst not find them stuff 

That will be bad enough 

To please their palates; let 'em thine refuse 

For some Pie-Corner muse. 

She is too fair a hostess, 'twere a sin 

For them to like thine Inn. 

'Twas made to entertain 

Guests of a nobler strain. 

Yet if they will have any of thy store. 

Give 'em some scraps, and send them from thy door. 

And let those things in plush, 

Till they be taught to blush. 

Like what they will, and more contented be 

With what Broome swept from thee. 

I know thy worth, and that thy lofty strains 

Write not to clothes, but brains. 

But thy great spleen doth rise, 

'Cause moles will have no eyes; 

This only in my Ben I faulty find ; 

He's angry, they'll not see him that are blind. 

Why should the scene be mute. 

While thou canst touch a lute, 

And string thy Horace? let each Muse of nine 

Claim thee, and say [that] thou art mine. 

'Twere fond to let all other flames expire 

To sit by Pindar's fire: 

For by so strange neglect, 

I should myself suspect 

The palsy were as well thy brains disease. 

If they could shake thy muse which way they please. 



TO BEN JONSON I45 

And though thou well canst sing 

The glories of thy king, 

And on the wings of verse his chariot bear 

To heaven, and fix it there; 

Yet let thy riiuse as well some raptures raise 

To please him as to praise, 

I would not have thee choose 

Only a treble muse; 

But have this envious, ignorant age to know: 

Thou, that canst sing so high, canst reach as low. 

[Poetical and Dramatic Works of Thomas Randolph, ed. W. Carew 
Hazlitt, 1875, P- 581; printed from the Kingsborough-Haslewood 
MS., vol. }, fol. 115.] 

I. C, about 1629. 

Ode to Ben Jonson, upon his Ode to Himself. 
Proceed in thy brave rage ^> 

Which hath raised up our stage , 

Unto that height as Rome, in all her state, 

Or Greece might emulate; 
Whose greatest senators did silent sit. 
Hear and applaud the wit, 
Which those intemperate times 
Used when it taxed their crimes; 
Socrates stood and heard with true delight 
All that the sharp Athenian Muse did write 

Against his supposed fault; 

And did digest the salt 
That from that full vein did so freely flow: 

And, though that we do know 
The Graces jointly strove to make that breast 
A temple for their rest. 

We must not make thee less 

Than Aristophanes. 
He got the start of thee in time and place, 
But thou hast gained the goal in art and grace. 

II 



146 AN ALLUSION -BOOK 

But if thou make thy feasts 

For the high-reHshed guests 
And that a cloud of shadows shall break in, 

It were almost a sin 
To think that thou shouldst equally delight 
Each several appetite; 

Though Art and Nature strive 

Thy banquets to contrive. 
Thou art our whole Menander, and dost look 
Like the old Greek; think then but on his cook. 

If thou thy full cups bring 

Out of the Muses' spring 
And there are some foul mouths had rather drink 

Out of the common sink, 
There let them seek to quench th' hydropic thirst 
Till the swoln humour burst. 

Let him, who daily steals 

From thy most precious meals, 
Since thy strange plenty finds no loss by it, 
Feed himself with the fragments of the wit. 

And let those silken men, 

That know not how or when 
To spend their money or their time, maintain 

With their consumed no-brain 
Their barbarous feeding on such gross base stufif 
As only serves to pufT 

Up the weak, empty mind, 

Like bubbles full of wind, 
And strive t' engage the scene with their damned oaths, 
As they do with the privilege of their clothes. 

Whilst thou takest that high spirit. 
Well purchased by thy merit : 
Great Prince of Poets, though thy head be gray, 

Crown it with Delphic bay, 
And from the chief (pin) in Apollo's choir 
Take down thy best tuned lyre. 



TO BEN JONSON 147 

Whose sound shall pierce so far 

It shall strike out the star 
Which fabulous Greece durst fix in heaven, whilst thine 
With all due glory here on earth shall shine. 

Sing, English Horace, sing 

The wonder of thy King; 
Whilst his triumphant chariot runs his whole 

Bright course about each pole. 
Sing down the Roman harper; he shall rain 
His bounties on thy vein, 

And with his golden rays 

So gild thy glorious bays. 
That Fame shall bear on her unwearied wing 
What the best Poet sung of the best King. 

[From Q. Horatius Flaccus: His Art of Poetry. Englished by Ben: 
Jonson, 1640. Gifford assigns the poem to John Cleveland, but 
J. M. Berdan, in his edition of Cleveland's poems, 1903, p. 177, 
seriously questions the attribution.] 

Thomas Carew, about 1629. 

To Ben Jonson. 

Upon occasion of his Ode of Defiance annexed to his 

Play of 'The New Inn.' 

'Tis true, dear BEN, thy just chastising hand 

Hath fix'd upon the 'sotted Age a brand, 

To their swol'n pride and empty scribbling due; 

It can nor judge, nor write: and yet 'tis true 

Thy Comic Muse, from the exalted line 

Touch 'd by thy 'Alchemist,'' doth since decline 

From that her zenith, and foretells a red 

And blushing evening, when she goes to bed ; 

Yet such as shall outshine the glimmering light 

With which all stars shall gild the following night. 

Nor think it much, since all thy Eaglets may 

Endure the Sunny trial, if we say 

'This hath the stronger wing,' or, 'that doth shine 

Trick'd up in fairer plumes'; since all are thine. 



148 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Who hath this flock of cackUng geese compar'd 
With thy tuned choir of swans? or who hath dared 
To call thy births deform'd? but if thou bind 
By City-Custom or by Gavel-kind 
In equal shares thy love on all thy race, 
We may distinguish of their sex and place; 

Though one hand shape them, and though one brain strike 

Souls into all, they are not all alike. 

Why should the follies, then, of this dull Age 
Draw from thy pen such an immodest rage. 
As seems to blast thy else-immortal Bays, 
When thine own tongue proclaims thy itch of praise? 
Such thirst will argue drought. No, let be hurl'd 
Upon thy works by the detracting world 
What malice can suggest: let the Rout say 
'The running sands that — ^ere thou m.ake a play — 
Count the slow minutes, might a Goodwin frame, 
To swallow when th' hast done thy shipwreck'd name.' 
Let them the dear expense of oil upbraid, 
Suck'd by thy watchful lamp, 'that hath betray 'd 
To theft the blood of martyr'd authors, spilt 
Into thy ink, whilst thou growest pale with guilt.' 

Repine not at thy thrifty taper's waste. 

That sleeks thy terser poems; nor is haste 

Praise, but excuse; and if thou overcome 

A knotty writer, bring thy booty home, 

Nor think it theft, if the rich spoils so torn 

From conquer'd authors be as Trophies worn. 

Let others glut on the extorted praise 

Of vulgar breath; trust thou to after days: 

Thy labour'd 'Works' shall live, when Time devours 

Th' abortive offspring of thy hasty hours. 

Thou art not of their rank, the quarrel lies 
, Within thine own verge: then let this suffice — ■ 
The wiser world doth greater Thee confess 
Than all men else, than Thy self only less. 
[Poems, 1640.] 



TO BEN JONSON 1 49 

Anonymous, about 1629. 

The Cuntrys Censure on Ben Johnsons New Inn. v 

Listen (decaying Ben) and Counsell heare 

Wittes have their date and strength of braines may weare 

Age, steept In sacke, hath quencht, thy Enthean fier 

Wee pittye now, whom once, wee did Admire: 

Surrender then thy right to th' stage; forbeare | 

To dare to wright, what others Loath to heare j 

and Justlye, since thy Crazye Muse doth now 

To quitte her Spartane province; fayntly knowe 

Swear not by God tis good ; for yff you doe : 

The world will taxe your zeale, and Judgment too; 

for In a Poett, yf that's last regarded 

New Inn's discretion, hath the quite discarded: 

From Aganippes pale, and pluct the Amonge 

Not the giddye headed ; but the unbrowed Thronge. 

Rayle not att the Actors; doe not them Abuse, 

Action to dullness; Cannott Life Infuse; 

For Velvett, Scarlett, Plush, doe tell you true, 

'Twas not their Cloathes; but they did blush for you; 

To see; and was not that. Just cause of rage; 

Weakenes and Impudence possest the stage, 

Iniurde the strength of witt; now cloyde and dry; 

Goodstucke, Prue, Frampole, Stuffell, Burst typ: fly; 

And their Com^rades, whose Language but to heare; 

Might stricke A surfTett, Into A gentle eare, 

but lett me tell thee this, Ben ; by the way. 

Thy Argument's as tedious as thy play; 

Thou saist noe Palsye doth thy Brayne pan vex, 

I praye the tell me what; an Apoplex: 

Thy Pegasus can stirr, yett thy best Care, 

Makes hur but shuffle; lyke the parson mare 

Who from his owne side witt; sayes thus by mee, 

Hee hath bequeathed his bellye unto thee, 

To holde that little Learning, whiche is fled ; 

Into thy Guttes; from out thy Emptye head; 



l^O AX Al I rSlON 1U)(>K 

\rl( llioii .lit (."onruloiil ; »S: iLiisl still swiMio, 
rin- l.iiilt's not III tli\ Hi. till, I'lil 111 llu-ii" (.MIX'; 
\\ li.it ilisiu.iU^ l.itr is this (liiis on tlu> sc.i.sotl); 
rii\- \vi>ith (K^tli i.i\lr; lli\ Ai ro^.inri^ Inciv.istMh ; 
Triilo .uul prc"siimi>lioii, Ii.itli ilrtliiDiuK- tli>' will, 
.\iul siM iipp riiil.uitio; In i>l.u-c ol >t t ; 
Tin' IniibiiHl IXiilinii. who.so stroii.ui" sollo C\>iu\Mp(. 
I'cn-st.illinj; pr.i\si\ did tli>' J list piM>-.so iloUMtc\ 
W'lMtli lu'in.u sclU" i>r.iisd, dolli l.ill, Iut is llu> best iVn'tt; 
C'.iii Jiisll\- nuMiitt PiMNso; ^S: \i"tt sr.uri^ kiiowi- \tt; 
Hilt tis \r\v Inn's tlis;is(or; not to knowc 
W'li.it or tin si'llc, or tUlicrs (."an Allow 
Woo witMi^o llu" nott, for t.iko tin i-iir.ii;iHl Appo.ilo 
Twill r.itluM- toslor tin- Mail wound tluMi IumIo 
l"or knowo; what JustKiloth dispiso, 
Potli prm t\ A i;ri\itor siMiuloll to our c>\os: 
And sure th.it sonsuro must linparliall boo 
W'ho.ir ro.idors, aiul s{>oota(ors both a.uri'iN 
\'ott, >tT piiro iiood Inforoo tluw to this sh.inu'. 
Woo pronor .iro {o Ad\ iso tlioo. tluMi lo bl.inu', 
Sinoi> wit (OS doo ta\lo, thou wort bosl poro (."rackt braino olso 
Vo tiirno m>no host; and kooju^ now Inn thy solto; 
Hut (.'h.in.uc th>- siiiiio, >lT thou'lt. boo ruld by mo 
Noo inoro l.ii;hl h.irt, but li.uht Hr.niio; lott yt bee. 
IMS. .\shiiiok- ;,S. lol. :<■), So.\ 

Owen Feltham, about 1629. 

An atisu'cr to the Ode, Conic leave the loathed Stojie, ^fc. 
Come lea^•e this sawcy wa>- 
Of baiting those that pay 
Hoar for the sight of >-our doolining Wit; 

'Tis known it is not tit. 
That a Sale Toot, just oontompt once thrown, 
Shouitl cry up thus his own. 
I wonder b>' what Dower, 
Or Patent, you had power 
From all to rape a judgment. Let't sufifice. 
Had vou been modest, y'ad been granted wise. 



TO BEX JOXSON' 15 1 

'Tis known you can do well, 

And that you do excell, 
As a Translator: But when things require 

A Genius, and Fire, 
Not kindled heretofore by others pains; 
As oft y'ave wanted Brains 

And Art to strike the White, 

As you have levell'd right: 
Yet if Men vouch not things Apochryphal, 
You bellow, rave, and spatter round your Gall. 

Jug, Pierce, Peek, Fly, and all 

Your Jests so nominal, 
Are things so far beneath an able Brain, 

As they do throw a Stain 
Thro' all th' unlikely Plot, and do displease 
As deep as Pericles. 

While yet there is not laid 

Before a Chamber-maid 
Discourse so weigh'd as might have serv'd of old 
For Schoob, when they of Lo\'e and X'alour told. 

Why Rage then? when the Show 

Should Judgment be and Know- 
Ledge, there are in Plush who scorn to drudge 

For Stages, yet can judge 
Not only Poets looser Lines, but Wits, 
And all their Perquisits. 

A Gift as rich, as high 

Is Noble Poesie: 
Yet tho' in sport it be for Kings a Play, 
'Tis next Mechanicks, when it works for pa>'. 

Alcasus Lute had none. 
Nor loose Anacreon, 
Ere taught so bold assuming of the Bays, 

When they deserv'd no praise. 
To rail Men into Approbation, 
Is new to yours alone; 



152 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And prosper not: For know, 

Fame is as coy, as you 
Can be disdainful; and who dares to prove 
A rape on her, shall gather scorn, not Love. 

Leave then this humour vain. 

And this more humorous Strain, 
Where Self-conceit, and Choler of the Blood 

Eclipse what else is good : 
Then if you please those Raptures high to touch, 
Whereof you boast so much ; 

And but forbear your Crown, 

Till the World puts it on : 
No doubt from all you may amazement draw, 
Since braver Theme no Phcehus ever saw. 

{Lusoria; or Occasional Pieces, first printed as an addition to the eighth 
edition of Feltham's Resolves, 1661, folio.] 

Richard Brome, after 1629. 

The Prologue. 
Qiiot quot adestis Salvete salvetote. 
The Schoolemaster that never yet besought yee. 
Is now become a suitor, that you'll sit, 
And exercise your Judgement with your wit. 
On this our Comedy, which in bold Phrase, 
The Author sayes has past with good applause 
In former times. For it was written, when , 
It bore just Judgement, and the seal of Ben. ^ 
Some in this round may have both seen 't, and heard, 
Ere I, that beare its title, wore a Beard. . . . 
[Prologue to Richard Brome's The City Wit, acted 1629, printed 1653.] 

James Howell, 1629. 

To my Father, Mr. Ben. Johnson. 

Father Beti. Nullum fit magnum ingenium sine mixtura de- 
menticE, there's no great Wit without some mixture of madness; 
so saith the Philosopher: Now was he a fool who answer'd. 



TO BEN JONSON 153 

nee parvum sine mixtura stultiticB, nor small wit without some 
allay of foolishness. Touching the first, it is verify 'd in you, 
for I find that you have been oftentimes mad; you were mad 
when you writ your Fox, and madder when you writ your Al- 
chymist; you were mad when you writ Catilin, and stark mad 
when you writ Sejaniis; but when you writ your Epigrams, and 
the Magnetick Lady, you were not so m,ad: Insomuch that I 
perceive there be degrees of madness in you. Excuse me that 
I am so free with you. The madness I mean is that divine Fury, 
that heating and heightning Spirit which Ovid speaks of. 

Est Deus in nobis, agitante calescimiis illo: That true Enthu- 
siasm which transports, and elevates the souls of Poets above 
the middle Region of vulgar conceptions, and makes them soar 
up to Heaven to touch the Stars with their laurell'd heads, to 
walk in the Zodiac with Apollo himself, and command Mercury 
upon their errand. 

I cannot yet light upon Dr. Davies Welsh Gram^m^ar, before 
Christmas I am promis'd one: So, desiring you to look better 
hereafter to your Charcoal-fire and Chimney, which I am glad 
to be one that preserv'd it from burning, this being the second 
time that Vulcan hath threaten'd you, it may be because you 
have spoken ill of his Wife, and been too busy with his Horns; 
I rest — Your Son, and contiguous Neighbour, J. H. 

Westm., 27 June 162Q. 

[EpistolcB Ho-Eliance: Familiar Letters Domestic and Foreign, ed. J. 
Jacobs, 1892, p. 267. Though probably not genuine letters, it 
has seemed best to insert these under the dates assigned to them.] 

James Howell, 1630. 

To Mr. Ben. Johnson. 
Father Ben, you desir'd me lately to procure you Dr. Davies's 
Welsh Grammar, to add to those many you have; I have lighted 
upon one at last, and I am glad I have it in so seasonable a 
time that it may serve for a New-year's-gift, in which quaHty 
I send it you. . . . 

— Your Son and Servitor, J. H. 

Cal. Apr. i62g. 

[EpistolcB Ho-Eliana, ed. J. Jacobs, 1892, p. 276. Cf. the preceding 
entry.] 



154 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Royal Grant, 1630. 
Charles, R. 
Charles, by the grace of God, Kinge of England, Scotland, 
Fraunce, and Ireland, defender of the faith, &c. to the Theasurer, 
Chancellour, under Theasurer, Chamberlens, and Barons of the 
Exchequer of us, our heirs and successours, now beinge, and that 
hereafter shall be; and to all others to whom these presents 
shall come, or to whom it shall or may apperteyn, greeting. 
Whereas our late most deare father King James of happy 
memorie, by his letters pattents under the great seale of England, 
bearing date at Westminster, the first day of February, in the 
thirteenth year of his reign of England (for the considerations 
therein expressed) did give and graunt unto our well beloved 
servaunt, Benjamin Johnson, one annuitie or yearly pension of 
one hundred marks of lawful money of Englande, during his life, 
to be paid out of the said Exchequer, at the feast of the Anuncia- 
tion of the blessed Virgin Mary, the Nativity of St. John Baptist, 
St. Michael the Archangel, and the birth of our Lord God, 
quarterly, as by the said letters patents more at large may appear. 
Which annuity or pension, together with the said letters patents, 
the said Benjamin Johnson hath lately surrendered unto us. 
Know yee nowe, that wee, for divers good considerations us at 
this present especially movinge, and in consideration of the good 
and acceptable service, done unto us and our said father by the 
said Benjamin Johnson, and especially to encourage him to 
proceede in those services of his witt and penn, which wee have 
enjoined unto him, and which we expect from him, are graciously 
pleased to augment and encrease the said annuitie or pension of 
one hundred marks, unto an annuitie of one hundred pounds of 
lawful money of England for his life. And for the better effecting 
thereof of our especial grace, certen knowledge and meer motion, 
we have given and graunted, and by these presents for us, our 
heirs and successors, upon the surrender aforesaid, do give and 
graunt unto the said Benjamin Johnson, one annuitie or yearly 
pension of one hundred pounds of England by the year, to have, 
hold, and yearly to receive the said annuitie or yearly pension 
of one hundred pounds of lawful money of England by the year. 



TO BEN JONSON 155 

unto the said Benjamin Johnson or his assignes, from the feast 
of our Lord God last past, before the date hereof, for and during 
the natural life of him the said Benjamin Johnson. . . . And 
further know yee, that wee of our more especial grace, certen 
knowledge and meer motion, have given and granted, and by 
these presents for us, our heires and successors, do give and 
graunt unto the said Benjamin Johnson and his assigns, one terse 
of Canary Spanish wine yearly: to have, hold, perceive, receive, 
and take the said terse of Canary Spanish wine unto the said 
Benjamin Johnson and his assigns during the term of his natural 
life out of our store of wines yearly, and from time to time 
remayninge at or in our cellers within or belonging to our palace 
of Whitehall. And for the better effecting of our will and pleasure 
herein, we do hereby require and command all and singular 
officers and ministers whom it shall or may concerne, or who 
shall have the care or charge of our said wines, that they or some 
one of them do deliver or cause to be delivered the said terse of 
wine yearly, and once in every year unto the said Benjamin 
Johnson or his assignes, during the terme of his natural life, at 
such time and times as he or they shall demand or desire the 
same. And these presents or the inrollment thereof shall be 
unto all men whom it shall concerne a sufficient warrant and 
discharge in that behalf, although express mention, &c. In 
witness, &c. 

Ex per Ro. Heath. 
Witness, &c. 

Maie it please your most excellent Majestic, 

This conteyneth your majestie's graunte unto Benjamin John- 
son, your majestie's servaunte, during his life, of a pension of 
100 £ per annum, and of a terse of Spanish wine yearly out of 
your majestie's store remaining at White-hall. 

And is done upon surrender of a former letters patents granted 
unto him by your late royal father, of a pension of 100 marks 
per annum. 

Signified to be your Majestie's pleasure by the Lord Theasurer. 

Ro. Heath. 



156 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

[Endorsed thus:] 

March 1630. 
Expl. apud Westm' vicesimo sexto die Martii anno R Ris Caroli 
qtdnto, 

per Windebank. 

[Reprinted from The Works of Ben Jonson, ed. P. Whalley, 1756, i, 
Iviii-lxi.] 

Exchequer Accounts, 1630. 

Exchequer account of receipts and issues from this day to the 
i6th inst. Among the payments occurs, "Ben Jonson, 25 £." 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Charles I, vol. clxx, no. 43, July 9, 
1630.] 

Anonymous, about 1630? 

Big BenjamJn hath had a cup of sacke 

So often at his mouth that now his backe 

Is almost brooke; whereas if hee his cup 

In his sack's mouth had closely tyed up: 

Hee might have had a blessing and have bin 

As fortunate as little Beniamin — ■ 

Though hee bee broake, and broake, and broke in twaine 

The Parliament hath peiced him againe. 

[Harl. MS. 4955, fol. 84, reproduced in Peter Cunningham's Extracts 
from the Accounts of the Revels at Court, 1842, p. xlix.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1630. 

John Spencer 

3° Julij 1630. 

Assigned ouer unto him by Mistris Bur[re] by a note 
under her hand and consent of master Purfoot warden, 
the copies followinge iiij^ 

Narcissus the fountaine of [self] love. [Jonson] 

A mad world my masters. 

The Alchemist [Jonson] 

The preachers travelles [Cartwright] 

Silent Woman [Jonson] 

Od[e] combes Complaint [T. Coryat] 

Ignoramus [G. Ruggle] 



TO BEN JONSON 1 57 

An Introduction to a devout life. 
Conclave Ignatij [J. Donne] 
[Arber's Transcript, iv, 238.] 

Thomas Carew, 1630. 

Now noise prevails, and he is tax'd for drouth 

Of wit, that, with the cry, spends not his mouth . . . 

These are the men in crowded heaps that throng 

To that adulterate stage, where not a tongue 

Of th'untun'd Kennel can a line repeat 

Of serious sense: but, like lips meet like meat; 

Whilst the true brood of Actors, that alone 

Keep natural unstrain'd action in her throne, 

Behold their benches bare, though they rehearse 

The terser Beaumont's or great Johnson's verse. 

Repine not thou then, since this churlish fate 

Rules not the stage alone; perhaps the State 

Hath felt this rancour, where men great and good 

Have by the rabble been misunderstood. 

So was thy Play, whose clear, yet lofty strain, 

Wisemen, that govern Fate, shall entertain. 

[To my worthy Friend, M. D'avenant, upon his excellent Play, The Just 
Italian, prefixed to The Just Italian, 1630.] 

Thomas Randolph, 1630. 

A gratiilatory to Master Ben. Johnson, for his adopting 
him to be his son. 
I was not born to Helicon, nor dare 
Presume to think myself a Muse's heir. 
I have no title to Parnassus Hill 
Nor any acre of it by the will 
Of a dead ancestor, nor could I be 
Ought but a tenant unto poetry. 
But thy adoption quits me of all fear, 
And makes me challenge a child's portion there. 
I am akin to heroes, being thine, 
And part of my alliance is divine, 



158 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Orpheus, Musaeus, Homer too, beside 

Thy brothers by the Roman mother's side; 

As Ovid, Virgil, and the Latin lyre 

That is so like thee, Horace; the whole quire 

Of poets are, by thy adoption, all 

My uncles; thou hast given me power to call 

Phoebus himself my grandsire; by this grant 

Each sister of the Nine is made my aunt. 

Go, you that reckon from a large descent 

Your Hneal honours, and are well content 

To glory in the age of your great name, 

Though on a herald's faith you build the same : 

Though you may bear a gorgon on your crest 

By direct line from Perseus; I will boast 

No further than my father; that's the most 

I can, or should be proud of; and I were 

Unworthy his adoption, if that here 

I should be dully modest; boast I must, 

Being son of his adoption, not his lust. 

And, to say truth, that which is best in me 

May call you father; 'twas begot by thee. 

Have I a spark of that celestial flame 

Within me? I confess I stole the same, 

Prometheus-like, from thee; and may I feed 

His vulture, when I dare deny the deed. 

Many more moons thou hast, that shine by night, 

All bankrupts, were't not for a borrow'd light. 

Yet can forswear it; I the debt confess, 

And think my reputation ne'er the less. 

For, father, let me be resolv'd by you : 

Is't a disparagement from rich Peru 

To ravish gold; or theft, for wealthy ore 

To ransack Tagus' or Pactolus' shore? 

Or does he wrong Alcinous, that for want 

Doth take from him a sprig or two, to plant 

A lesser orchard? Sure, it cannot be: 

Nor is it theft to steal some flames from thee. 



TO BEN JONSON 159 

Grant this, and I'll cry guilty, as I am, 

And pay a filial reverence to thy name, 

For when my muse upon obedient knees 

Asks not a father's blessing, let her lese 

The fame of this adoption ; 'tis a curse 

I wish her, 'cause I cannot think a worse. 

And here, as piety bids me, I entreat 

Phoebus to lend thee some of his own heat, 

To cure thy palsy; else I will complain 

He has no skill in herbs; poets in vain 

Make him the god of Physic, 'twere his praise 

To make thee as immortal as thy bays — 

As his own Daphne, 'twere a shame to see 

The god not love his priest more than his tree. 

But if heaven take thee, envying us thy lyre, 

'Tis to pen anthems for an angel's quire. 

[Poetical and Dramatic Works, ed. W. C. Hazlitt, 1875, p. 537; printed 
from the Kingsborough-Haslewood MS., vol. i, fol. 128.] 

Sir George Gresley, 1631. 

Letter to . . . ., Essex House, February 2, i6ji. 

The Queen and her ladies do practise the masque [Jonson's 

Chlorida], which they intend to perform at Shrovetide, twice 

a-week. 

[Thomas Birch, The Court and Times of Charles the First, 1848, ii, 95; 
the letter is inadvertently dated 1632.] 

Sir Thomas Colepepper, 1631. 

Letter to Sir Francis Nethersole, at The Hague, February 15, 1631. 
Everybody is busy about the performance of the Queen's 
mask [Chlorida] on Shrovetide next. All the Court ladies are 
daily practitioners. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Charles I, clxxxv, no. 5. See also 
no. 23.] 

The Lord Chamberlain's Warrant-Book, 1631. 

Warrant to Edmund Taverner Esq. for £ 600 to be employed 
towards the Queen's Masque [Chloridia] at Shrove- tide next. 
Feb. 14*^ 1630-1. 



l6o AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Warrant for £ 200 extra to be paid Taverner for the same 
Masque. Feb. 19. 1630. 

[Extracts from the Lord Chamberlain's Warrant- Book, v, 93, pp. 228, 
231; reproduced in Jahrbuch der Deutschen Shakes peare-Gesell- 
schaft, xlvi, 95.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1631. 

Received of Mr. Taylor and Lowins, in the name of their 
company, for the benefitt of my winter day, upon the second day 
of Ben Jonson's play of Every Man in his Humour, this 18 day 
of February, 1630 — 12/. 45. od. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 44.] 

Title-pages, 1631, 

Loues Triumph through Callipolis. Performed in a Masque 
at Court 1630. By his Maiestie with the Lords, and Gentlemen 
assisting. The Inuentors. Ben. lonson. Jnigo Tones. . . . 
I.N. for Thomas Walkley. 1630. 

Chloridia. Rites to Chloris and her Nymphs. Personated in 
a Masque, at Court. By the Queenes Maiesty And her ladies. 
At Shroue-tide. 1630. ... for Thomas Walkley. 

[These two masques were presented at Court on January 9, 1631 and 
February 22, 1631 respectively. The second bears no date of 
printing, but both were published by Thomas Walkley, and both, 
probably, appeared before March 23, 1630-31.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 163 1. 

Thomas Alchorne 

J -.mo (Jig Aprilis-i63i. 

Entred for his Copye under the handes of Sir Henry 
Herbert and Master Kingston warden a Comedy Called 
New Inne written by Ben : Johnson vj*^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iv, 251.] 

Title-page, 1631. 

The New Inne. Or, The light Heart. A Comoedy. As it 
was never acted, but most negligently play'd, by some, the King's 
Servants. And more squeamishly beheld, and censured by 
others, the Kings Subiects. 1629. Now, at last, set at liberty 



\ 

TO BEN JONSON l6l 

to the Readers, his Ma*'''^ Servants, and Subiects, to be iudg'd. 
1631. By the Author, B. lonson. . . . London, printed by 
Thomas Harper, for Thomas Alchorne, . . . MDCXXXI. 

R. Goodwin, 1631. 

Vindiciae Jotisonianae. 

Since, what past Ages onlie had begun, 

and ventur'd at, Thou hast exactlie done; 

And that the Ancients, more precede not thee 

in Time, then thou dost them, in Poesie: 

Staine not that Well-gaind Honour, with the Crude, 

or the rash Censure, of a Multitude 

Of Silken fooles; who cannot Understand 

(for they were borne not to have wit, but Land) 

Thy sublim'd Soule: but daily doe preferre 

those, who almost as diligentlie erre, 

as thou dost write; more Comick rules mistake, 

then thou observ'dst of old, or new dost make; 

Revenge those wrongs with pittie; for wee see, 

'tis Ignorance in them., noe Crime in thee, 

that moulds their Judgments, who ere chanc't to see, 

that vast prodigious Louvre-Gallerie, 

but at his Entrance (judging by his Eyes) 

Would thinke the roof inclin'de, the floore did rise! 

And, at the end, each Equidistant Side, 

mett in one Point! though, there, they bee as wide 

as where he stood ; soe they who now adaies 

Come to behold, not understand thy Plaies; 

With weake-ey'd Judgment, easelie may depresse 

thy loftie Muse, extoll the Lowlines, 

of trampled Poets; with Sinister Witt, 

Contract thy Dexterous vaine to answear it, 

and be deceav'd like him, or as those Eyes, 

which, through grosse Vapours, and thick ayre that flies 

Close to the earth, the riseing Sun can view, 

and with deluded Sence doe judge it true, 

that, then, hee's twice as Great, as when hee hath ran, 

and is inthron'd, in their Meridian. 



l62 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Though at that time, he was more distant farre, 

then the Whole Earth's Semidiameter; 

Even so these Gallants, when they chance to heare 

A new Witt peeping in their Hemisphere, 

Which they can apprehend, their clouded Braines, 

Will straight admire, and Magnifie his Straines, 

farre above thine; though all that he hath done, 

is but a Taper, to thy brighter Sun ; 

Wound them with scorne! Who greives at such Fooles tongues, 

doth not revenge, but gratifie their Wrongs. 

Who's doom'd to erre. Unto himself must bee 

An Heretique, if he judge right of Thee: 

Icterick-eyes, all dififerent colours thinke 

the same; What feaverish Palates drinke, 

tast's ill; though nere so good; wee find by Sence, 

ev'en Contraries may have Coincidence. 

for, to a Smileing Statue, let a hand 

adde some few Teares, though all the lines els stand, 

and Liniaments untouch't, it will appeare, 

like Sorrowes figure, and the lively chere 

Drown'd into Sadnes: soe when these bold Men, 

blindlie misled, shall temerate thy Pen, 

Adding their Censures; thou maist seeme to bee, 

as different from Thy selfe, as they from Thee. 

Wer't not the Sence I had of sacred writt, 

I should have call'd it Blasphemy 'gainst witt. 

And Sacriledge 'gainst Art; but when I see 

They little knowe themselves, & farr lesse Thee, 

Their dislike is thine Honour; Hee that's mov'd. 

With such mens censures; graunteth it half prov'd 

that he is guiltie; Innocence no Lawes, 

Vertue feares no Detraction ; 'tis no cause, 

Yet Argument of worth, in that 'tis true. 

Your Witt cannot suite them, nor their Braines you. 

Could such poore Intellectualls as theirs. 

But reach thy pitch, the Mind, that now admires, 

Would then contemne Thee; Hee's esteem'd by none, 

that can be understood by every one; 



TO BEN JONSON 163 

Fear'st then, thy Fame that warr's 'gainst Tyme; Thy Pen, 

that triumph's, can be foil'd by Out-side Men? 

Such Aromatique Trees? is 't such a Grace 

t'have pretious Barkes, when as the Timber's base? 

Had they been halfe soe vers'd in witt; soe bred 

in Learned Authors, as they're deepelie read 

in subtill Shop-Bookes, I confesse their Doome, 

that give's thee a laurell now, had giv'n thee a Tombe. 

But scorne to stand, feare not to fall, by Votes 

of such imbroydered — glittering — Silver Coates! 

The Capitol was sav'd, I doe confesse 

by watchfull Geese; but when Roomes thankfulnes; 

a silver goose erected, which there stood, 

did that discover foes, or doe Roome good? 

Nor can these Gilt-men, Thee. Thy dareing Pen, 

that may contend with Fate, can that feare men? 

When Roome, that quel'd the world, to thee had beene 

a debtor for her Safetie (had she scene, 

or beene so blest, as to have heard one Lyne, 

Which thy Pen wrote of bloody Cataline) 

More, then to that Vaine Consulls glorieing Style, 

Whose every period seemes a German myle; 

Whose fluent tongue, more lively, at that time, 

exprest his owne vaine-glorie, then their Crime; 

for words and Actions, mJght be easely knowne, 

the thought's were only Cataline's, and thine owne. 

And thou didst write, what he durst think, or dare: 

Could wee now Question Cataline, and compare 

Him with thy writeings, wee should sweare, almost. 

Thy Muse had beene Confessor to his Ghost; 

And his soules Characters in his Front had read. 

Which threatned death, when he himself was dead. 

Had shee read thy Sejanus Hfe, and fate; 

World's second Head! that Tympany of State! 

She had a wonder scene, farre greater, then, 

then was himselfe! him, equall'd by thy Pen! 

Nay more a miracle; for on thy Stage, 

Caesar's out done in Crafte, Rome in her rage. 



1 64 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The other workes, rais'd by thy skillfull hand, 

pittying the Worlds old wonders, they shall stand 

As Monuments of thee, more firme, amids 

all envies blasts, then i4igypts Pyramids 

Those burthens of the Earth, 'gainst laboring stormes; 

Thus, then secur'd above the reach of Harmes, 

Low Soules can meditate; use not that pen, 

that could affright the world, 'gainst such poore Men. 

Hee is more foole, then Tyrant, that would kill, 

His Enemie at once: too great an 111 

It is to them, they cannot hurt thee: bee 

then wise to them as they are fooles to Thee. 

For if those men that built th' Ephesian Pile, 

did feed the toil'd out Asses all the while, 

on publique charge, whose younger strength did bring, 

Materialls to that Structure (as a thinge 

As great in Charity, for them to yield 

food to those beasts, as Piety to builde 

Their Goddesse such a Temple) shal't be thought 

that the ridiculous Asses, which once brought. 

Thee such Materials, as have m.ade thy Stage, 

to be the Greatest wonder of our Age, 

Should not at last (tyr'd-out in Follies) gett, 

Licence to banquet, their Decrepit Witt, 

on Offall Poets? on the Comon Store, 

and Scraps of witt? Nay greive there are no more, 

to please their Tasts. for when Fooles plentie bee, 

Wise men are Miracles. When Rome did see, 

at Caesar's Triumph, all the figures there, 

of rich Materials, Gold and Silver were: 

And in the Triumph, next to his, not one, 

but carv'd in wood, in Ivory, or Stone; 

They did conceive, the last which they had seen, 

serv'd as a case to keepe great Caesars in : 

Soe after thy rare peeces, when wee heare 

such blockish Poems, doe they not appeare 

like dark-foiles, closely sett? which cannot shine. 

Yet give what in them.selves they want, to thine. 



TO BEN JONSON 165 

Lustre and life; as they were only showne, 

to lock thy Memory up in, not their owne; 

and that soe safelie too; that Fate from Thee 

Cannot take life; it may Mortalitie; 

Other Oblivion, then, thou ne're shalt find, 

then that, which, with Thee must put out Mankind. 

[Harl. MS. 4955; reproduced by W. D. Briggs, A^iglia, xxxvii, 479.] 

John Selden, 1631. 

But of the Crown of Laurell given to Poets, hitherto. And 

thus haue I, by no unseasonable digression, performed a promise 

to you my beloved Ben. Jonson. Your curious learning and 

judgement may correct where I have erred, and adde where my 

notes and memory have left me short. You are 

— omnia Carmina docttis 

Et calles Mythwn plasmata & Historiam. 

And so you both fully know what eoncernes it, and your singular 

Excellencie in the Art most eminently deserves it. 

[Titles of Honor, second, and revised, edition, 1631. The above passage 
does not appear in the first edition of 1614.] 

Edmund Howes, 1631. 

Our moderne, and present excellent Poets which worthily 
flourish in their owne workes, and all of them in my owne knowl- 
edge lived togeather in this Queenes raigne, according to their 
Priorities as neere as I could, I have orderly set downe (viz) 
George Gascoigne Esquire, Thomas Churchyard Esquire, Sir Ed- 
ward Dyer Knight, Edmond Spencer Esquire, Sir Philip Sidney 
Knight, Sir John Harrington Knight, Sir Thomas Challoner 
Knight, Sir Frauncis Bacon Knight, & Sir John Davie Knight, 
Master lohn Lillie Gentleman, Master George Chapman Gentle- 
man, M. W. Warner Gentleman, Mast. Wil. Shakespeare Gentle- 
man, Samuell Daniell Esquire, Michaell Draiton Esquire, of the 
Bath, Master Christopher Mario Gen., M. Benjamine Johnson 
Gentleman, lohn Marston Esquire, Master Abraham Frauncis 
Gent., Master Frauncis Meets Gentle., Master Josua Siluester 
Gentle., Master Thomas Decker Gentleman, M. John Flecher 



1 66 ° AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Gentle., Mast. John Webster Gentleman, Ma. Thomas Heyivood 
Gentleman, M. Thomas Middleton, Master George Withers. 
[Annates, or Generall Chronicle of England, 1631, p. 811.] 

James Shirley, 1631. 

Hiplpolito]. . . . Are you melancholy? a masque is prepared, 
and music to charm Orpheus himself into a stone; numbers 
presented to your ear that shall speak the soul of the immortal 
English Jonson . . . 

[Love's Cruelly, II, ii.] 

Lucius Carey, Viscount Falkland, 163 1. 

So let His liegiers with the poets joyne; 
Both having shares, both must in grief combine: 
Whil'st Johnson forceth with his elegie 
Teares from a griefe-unknowing Scythian's eye, 
(Like Moses, at whose stroke the waters gusht 
From forth the rock and like a torrent rusht). 

[An Elegy on Dr. Donne, reprinted in Miscellanies of The Fuller Worthies 
Library, ed. A. B. Grosart, iii, 381.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 163 1. 

Master Allott 

7° September. 

Assigned over unto him by a note under thfe hand of 
Master John Waterson a booke called The stapell of 

Newes written by Master Ben: Johnson vj^ 

this note was subscribed by Master 
Islip and master Smithwicke Wardens 
[Arber's Transcript, iv, 260.] 

Proposed Edition, 163 1? 
Bartholomew Fayre: A Comedie, Acted in the Yeare, 16 14. 
By the Lady Elizabeths Servants. And then dedicated to King 
lames, of most Blessed Memorie; By the Author, Beniamin 
lohnson. . . . London, Printed by L B. for Robert Allot, and 
are to be sold at the signe of the Beare, in Pauls Church-yard. 
1631. 



TO BEN JONSON 167 

The Diuell is an Asse: A Comedie Acted in the Yeare, 1616. 
By His Maiesties Servants. The Author Ben: lohnson. . . . 
London, Printed by I. B. for Robert Allott . . . 163 1. 

The Staple of Newes. A Comedie Acted in the Yeare, 1625. 
By His Maiesties Servants. The Author Ben: lohnson. . . . 
London, Printed by L B. for Robert Allot . . . 1631. 

[These three plays, printed in foHo, with continuous signatures, seem 
to have been designed for a second volume of Jonson's Workes as 
originally issued in 1616; some copies were apparently bound up, 
without a general title-page (a copy, thus originally bound, is in 
the possession of one of the editors of this Allusion- Book). All 
three plays were later included in the folio volume of 1640, which, 
though it contains in addition The Magnetic Lady, A Tale of a 
Tub, The Sad Shepherd, and Mortimer His Fall, has the title The 
Workes of Benjamin Jonson. The Second Volume. Containing 
these Playes, Viz. i Bartholomew Fayre. 2 The Staple of Newes. 
J The Di.ell is an Asse.] 

Thomas Hey wood, 1631. 

To the Reader. 
Curteous Reader, my plaies have not beene exposed to the 
publicke view of the world in numerous sheets, and a large 
volume, but singly (as thou seest) with great modesty and small 
noise. 

[Prefixed to The Fair Maid of the West. Heywood elsewhere takes 
occasion to refer adversely to Jonson's issuing his plays under the 
title of Workes.] 

London City Records, 1631. 

Jovis decimo die novembris 163 1, Annoque Regni Regis Caroli 
Angliae, etc., septimo. 

Item: it is ordered by this Court that Mr. Chamberlen shall 
forbeare to pay any more fee or wages unto Benjamine Johnson 
the Citties Chronologer until he shall have presented unto this 
Court some fruits of his labours in that his place. 

[Extract from the City Records, Rep. No. 46, fol. 8. See Jonson's 
interesting letter to the Earl of Newcastle, December 10, 1631, 
printed in the Shakespeare Society Papers, 1844, vol. i: " Yesterday 
the barbarous Court of Aldermen have withdrawn their Chanderly 
Pension for Verjuice and Mustard, 33 ^' 6 s."] 



l68 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1631. 

Received of Mr. Blagrave, in the name of the kings company, 
for the benefitt of my winter day, taken upon The Alchemiste, 
this I of Decemb. 163 1, — ^13/. os. od. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 44.] 

John Pory, 1632. 

Letter to Sir Thomas Puckering, January 12, 1632. 

The last Sunday at night, the king's Mask was acted in the 
banquetting house, the queen's being suspended till another time, 
by reason of a soreness which fell into one of her delicate eyes. 

The inventor or poet of this Mask was Mr. Aurelian Town- 
shend, sometime toward [steward] to the Lord Treasurer Salis- 
bury; Ben Jonson being, for this time, discarded by reason of 
the predominant power of his antagonist, Inigo Jones, who, this 
time twelve-month, was angry with him for putting his own 
name before his in the title-page; which Ben Jonson has made 
the subject of a bitter satire or two against Inigo. 

Jan. 12, 1631. 

[Reprinted from the Gifford-Cunningham ed. of Jonson, 1871, i, Iv.] 

John Milton, 1632. 

Then to the well-trod stage anon, 
If Jonson 's learned sock be on. 

[L'Allegro, 11. 131-32.] 

Sir Aston Cokaine, 1632. 
Thou more than Poet, our Mercurie (that art 
Apollo's Messenger, and do'st impart 
His best expressions to our eares) live long 
To purifie the slighted English tongue 
That both the Nymphes of Tagus, and of Poe, 
May not henceforth despise our language so. 
Nor could they doe it, if they ere had scene 
The matchlesse features of the faerie Queene; 
Read Johnson, Shakespeare, Beaumont, Fletcher, or 
Thy neat-limnd peeces, skilfull Massinger. 

[Commendatory verses prefixed to Massinger's Emperor of the East, 
1632.] 



TO BEN JONSON 169 

Lucius Carey, Viscount Falkland, 1632.. 

An Anniversary Epistle on Sir Henry Morison, with an Apostrophe 

to my Father Jonson. 
Noble Father. 

I must imitate M'': Gamaliel Du: both in troubling you, w*'' 
ill verses, and the intention of professing my service to you 
by them. It is an Anniversary on S"" Harry Morison. In w'='^:, 
because there is something concernes, some way, an Antagonist 
of yours, I have aplied it to you. Though he may be angry at 
it, I am yet certaine that, tale temperamentiim sequor ut de iis 
qiiaeri non poterit, si de se bene sentiat. What here [sic] is ill in 
them (w'^'' I feare is all) it belongs only to my self; if there be 
any thing tollerable, it is som.ethinge you drop't negligentlie 
some day at the Dogg, & I tooke up. 

Tu tantum accipies, ege te legisse putaho, 
et tumidus Galla credulitate fruar. 

S': I am 

Your Sonne, & Servant 

This is Poetique furie! when the pen 

of such a Poet-paramont, as Ben, 

Hath writt, to write againe! and dare to meane 

(Where such a Sickle reapt before) to gleane! 

But pardon Father for what I rehearse, 

but imitates thy friendship, not thy Verse. 

Thou of ^ thy Mistresse; and- his Mistresse, say; 

his acts; Her beauties, let thy Muse display; 

Shew us, he will fifth Henries acts repeat, 

and prove a greater Charles, then Charles the Great! 

how now hee governes, and will conquer men! 

and write his Justice now^ his triumphs then! 

This is thy work! My 'Affection cannot bee 

better expres't, then by ill Poetrye. 

Hee wrongs his Greif els, if he seeme t'have time 

to change an Epithite, dislike a Rime. 

^ The King. - The Queene. [Marginal notes in the manuscript.] 



170 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

If what he writt he crosse, or it appeares 

his paper have a blott, but from his teares, 

Passion being strong, Invention should be weak. 

such verse as Quarles makes God-all-mighty speake 

Would serve a mourner; and admired bee 

for the no Care, and the Humility. 

And I am certaine, even what here is writt 

Will praise my freindship, though condemne my witt. 

* * * * 

Hee^ to great Virgill, such affection tooke, 

he was no more his Reader, but his booke! 

Did Ovid's, and high Lucans praise display. 

Without beholdingnes to Sands or May! 

And next, his admiration fix't on thee. 

Our Metropolitane in Poetry! . . . 

[Harl. MS. 4955; reproduced by W. D. Briggs, Anglia, xxxvii, 474. 

Lucius Carey, Viscount Falkland, about 1632. 

An Epistle to his Noble Father, Mr. Jon son. 
The Fox the Lions sight extream,elie fear'd 
haveing his force, and feircenes onlie hear5 ; 
And, the first time, was Ague-struck to see 
his dangerous Pawes, and King-like Majestic; 
The second meeting-time, approaching nere, 
A warmer courage thaw'd away his feare; 
The third, you would have thought, he had his Twin 
his Den-fellowe, or long acquaintance bin. 
'Twas onlie custome; for the Fox had skill 
to know the Lion, was a Lion, still. 
Such is my case: for when I first did see 
the Patent of your Imortalitie 

Your workes, by whose full Style, Strong Witt, I knew 
so long as English liv'd, so long would you! 
I should have quak'd, if I had thought to write 
to Phsebus, his owne wonder. Mans Delight! 
That which augments my Courage, with such Store, 
is not I like you lesse; But know you more; 
1 Morison. [Marginal note in the manuscript.] 



TO BEN JONSON 171 

I thought you proud, for I did surely kiiowe, 

had I Ben: Jonson, bene, I had beene soe. 

And thought it was forgiveable, nay fitt 

for him, whose Muse had such wit-wonders, writt. 

Now I recant; And doubt, whether your Store 

of Ingenuity, or Ingenie, be more! 

I wish your Wealth were equall to them both. 

You have deserv'd it: yet I should be loth 

that want, should a Quotidian trouble bee 

to such a Zeno, in Phylosophie; 

Shame's wants worst companie; and 'tis no shame 

to want in Mettall, and be rich in fame 

In Hell, it mJght Sejanus spirits raise 

that your pen spoke of him, although Dispraise. 

Hee sure would choose a m.ention from your Quill, 

rather, then t'have bene fix't a Favorite still. 

Hee may allow Tiberius thanks, not hate; 

his worser, hath begot his better Fate. 

Hee had not cause to joy, so in that hower 

he second was in place; but first, in power, 

of all the world! Then can there be a Blisse 

to be compar'd, nay to come neare to his? 

Whom this your Quill (not differing from your hart) 

hath often mencion'd, on the better part? 

Shall he that all els cures, himself not live? 

can you want that, you can to others give? 

None gives but what hee hath ; that happines 

You deale abroad, still you your-self possesse: 

Though given to others, it becomes their Due: 

it, echo-like, reverberates to yow! 

* * * * 

that Man's most happie, that makes others soe. 
Ipse ego qui nullos me affirmo scribere versus 
Invenior Parthis mendacior, et prius orto 
Sole, Vigil calamum, et chartas, et scrinia posco. 

Your Sonne and servant. 

Lucius Cary. 

(Harl. MS. 4955; reproduced by W. D. Briggs, Anglia, xxxvii, 478.] 



172 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1632. 

In the yeere 16 12 master Daniel Fealtie being in France, 
Chaplaine to the embassadour of our late soueraigne, there 
came to Paris one M. Kneuet, half-brother to M. John Foord, 
an honest and vertuous gentleman then living in that cittie. 
This M. Kneuet, being, upon his arrival there, put in mind, that 
he was mistaken in the matter of religion, . . . tould his 
brother (M. Foord) he would see one of ours defend it before M. 
Fealtie. . . . Withall he acquainted M. Fealtie with the busines, 
and with the point he meant should be discussed. M. Fealtie 
thinking himselfe alone hard enough for the whole" church of 
Rome, undertooke it. . . . At leingth, upon the third of Sep- 
tember, word was sent to M. D. Smith (who . . . was entreated 
to undertake the cause) that he should provide himselfe for the 
morrow. On the 4 of September there met at M. Kneuet's 
chamber M. D. Smith, and M. Fealty. With M. D. Smith 
came his cozen M. Rainer, . . . and with M. Fealty came one 
M. John Porie, who had beene a burgeois (as it was said) in the 
first parlament in king James his time. There were also present 
M. John Foord, M. Thomas Rant, M. Ben. Johnson, M. Henrie 
Constable and others, not English onlie but also French: for 
M. Fealty presuming the victory, had made the matter knowne. 

[The Summe of a Conference betwixt M. D. Smith now B. of Chakedon, 
and M. Dan. Fealty Minister, 1632; cited in Wood's AthencB 
Oxonienses, ed. Philip Bliss, 1815, iii, 1254.] 

Thomas Randolph, 1632. 

Eclogue to Master Jonson. 

TiTYRUS [i.e. Jonson]. 
Under this beech why sitt'st thou here so sad. 
Son Damon, that was erst a jovial lad? 
These groves were wont to echo with the sound 
Of thy shrill reed, while every nymph danc'd round. 
Rouse up thy soul; Parnassus Mount stands high. 
And must be climb'd with painful industry. 



TO BEN JONSON 173 

Damon [i.e. Randolph]. 

You, father, on his forked top sit still, 
And see us panting up so steep a hill; 
But I have broke my reed, and deeply swore 
New with wax, never to joint it more. 

TiTYRUS. 

Fond boy, 'twas rashly done: I meant to thee 
Of all the sons I have, by legacy 
To have bequeath'd my pipe. Thee, thee of all 
I meant it should her second master call. 

Damon. 

And do you think I durst presum.e to play 

Where Tityrus had worn his lip away? 

Live long thyself to tune it; 'tis from thee, 

It has not from itself such harm^ony. 

Bvt if we ever such disaster have 

As to compose our Tityrus in his grave; 

Yonder, upon yon aged oak, that now 

Old trophies bears on every sacred bough, 

We'll hang it up a relic; we will do it, 

And learned swains shall pay devotion to it. 

Tityrus. 

Can'st thou farewell unto the Muses bid? 
Then bees shall loathe the thyme, the new-wean'd kid 
Browse on the buds no more; the teeming ewes 
Henceforth the tender fallows shall refuse. 

Damon. 

I by those ladies now do nothing set; 

Let 'em for m.e some other servant get. 

They shall no more be mistresses of mine, 

No, though my pipe had hope to equal thine — 

Thine, which the floods have stopp'd their course to hear; 

To which the spotted lynx hath lent an ear. 



174 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Which while the several echoes would repeat, 
The music has been sweet, the art so great 
That Pan himself, amaz'd at thy deep airs. 
Sent thee of his own bowl to drown thy cares. 
Of all the Gods, Pan doth the pipe respect: 
The rest unlearned pleasures more affect. 
Pan can distinguish what thy raptures be 
From Bavius' loose, lascivious minstrelsy, 
Or Maevnus' windy bagpipe — Maevius, he 
Whose wit is but a tavern timpany. 
If ever I flock of my own do feed. 
My fattest lambs shall on his altar bleed. 

TiTYRUS. 

Two altars I will build him, and each year 
Will sacrifice two well-fed bullocks there: 
Two that have horns, that while they butting stand, 
Strike from their feet a cloud of numerous sand. 
But what can m.ake thee leave the Muses, man. 
That such a patron hast as mighty Pan? 
Whence is this fury? Did the partial ear 
» Of the rude vulgar, when they late did hear 
Egon and thee contend which best should play, 
Him victor deem, and give thy kid away? 
Does Amaryllis cause this high despair? 
Or Galatea's coyness breed thy care? 

Damon. 

Neither of these: the vulgar I contemn. 

Thy pipe not always, Tityrus, wins from them: 

And as for love, in sooth I do not know 

Whether he wears a bow and shafts, or no. 

Or did I, I a way could quickly find 

To win the beauteous Galatea's mind, 

Or Amaryllis. I to both could send 

Apples that with Hesperian fruit contend: 

And on occasion could have quickly guess'd 

Where two fair ring doves built their amorous nest. 



TO BEN JONSON 1 75 

TiTYRUS. 

If none of these, my Damon, then a-reed. 
What other cause can so much passion breed? 

Damon. 

Father, I will; in those indulgent ears 

I dare unload the burden of my fe?rs. . . . 

[The Poetical and Dramatic Works of Thomas Randolph, ed. W. C. 
Hazlitt, 1875, p. 605. The poem is too long to be quoted here 
in full.] 

John Harriot, 1633. 
All men, we know, delight in Benjamin. 

[The Booke-sellcr, to the Reader, prefixed to Poems. By Robert 
Gomersall, London, 1633.] 

Thomas Heywood, 1633. 

My Playes are not exposed unto the world in Volumes, to 

beare the title of Works, as others. 

[To the Reader, prefixed to The English Traveller, 1633. This is one 
of many jibes at Jonson's publication of his plays under the title 
of Workes.] 

Thomas Bancroft, 1633. 
But the chast bay not euery songster weares. 
Nor of Appollo's sonnes prooue all his heires: 
'Tis not for all to reach at Shakespeares height. 
Or thinke to grow to solid Johnsons weight. 
To bid so faire as Chapman for a fame, 
Or match (your family) the Beaumonts name. 
[Verses prefixed to his Glutton's Feaver, 1633.] 

Shackerley Marmion, 1633. 

Enter Careless, drunk. 

Car. . . . Save you, fair lady. 

jEmi[lia]. Save you. Master Careless. 

Car. Will you hear me speak any wise sentences? 
I am now as discreet in my conceit 
As the seven Sophies of Greece, I am full 



176 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Of oracles, I am come from Apollo; 

Would he had lent me his tripos to stand upon, 

For my two legs can hardly carry me. 

Mmi. Whence come you? from Apollo? 

Car. From the heaven 
Of my delight, where the boon Delphic god 
Drinks sack, and keeps his Bacchanalias, 
And has his incense, and his altars smoking. 
And speaks in sparkling prophecies; thence do I come! 
My brains perfum'd with the rich Indian vapour, 
And height'ned with conceits, from tempting beauties, 
From dainty music and poetic strains, 
From bowls of nectar, and ambrosiac dishes: 
From witty varlets, fine companions, 
And from a mighty continent of pleasure. 
Sails thy brave Careless. 

[A Fine Companion, 1633, II, iv. The passages gives an interesting 
description of Jonson's gatherings with his "sons" at the Apollo.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1633. 

R. for allowinge of The Tale of the Tubb, Vitru Hoop's parte 
wholly strucke out, and the motion of the tubb, by commande 
from my lorde chamberlin: exceptions being taken against it 
by Inigo Jones, surveyor of the kings workes, as a personal injury 
unto him. May 7, 1633, — 2I. o. o. 

1633, October 18. On friday the nineteenth [an error for 
"eighteenth"] of October, 1633, I send a warrant by a messenger 
of the chamber to suppress The Tamer Tamd, to the Kings 
players, for that afternoone, and it was obeyed; upon complaints 
of foule and offensive matters conteyned therein. 
They acted The Scornful Lady instead of it. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, pp. 34, 20.] 

Thomas Nabbes, 1633. 

Jam[es]. How shall we spend the day, Sam? 

Sam. Let's home to our studies and put cases. 

Jam. Hang cases and bookes that are spoyl'd with them. 



TO BEN JONSON 177 

Give me Johnson and Shakespeare; there's learning foi a gentle- 
man. I tell thee, Sam, were it not for the dancing-schoole and 
Playhouses, I would not stay at the Innes of Court for the hopes 
of a chiefe Justice-ship. (Ill, i.) 

Wije. . . . There was a Tub at Totenham; you know the 
successe of it. (V, iv.) 

[Tottenham Court, 1633. The second passage seems to be an allusion 
to Jonson's Tale of a Tub.] 

John Pory, 1633. 

Letter to Sir Thomas Puckering, September 20, i6jj. 

Ben Jonson (who I thought had been dead) hath written a play 
against next term called the Magnetick Lady. 

[Reprinted in J. P. Collier's Annals of the Stage, 1S79, h 47I-] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1633, 

Received of Knight, for allowing of Ben Johnsons play called 
Humours ReconciVd, or the Magnetic Lady, to be acted, this 12th 
of Octob, 1632 [Malone's error for 1633?], 2I. o. o. 

1633, October 24. Upon a second petition of the players to 
the High Commission court, wherein they did mee right in my 
care to purge their plays of all offense, my lords Grace of Canter- 
bury bestowed many words upon mee, and discharged mee of 
any blame, and layd the whole fault of their play, called The 
Magnetick Lady, upon the players. This happened the 24 of 
Octob. 1633, at Lambeth. In their first petition they would 
have excused themselves on m,ee and the poett. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, pp. 34, 21.] 

Alexander Gill, 1633. 

To B Johnson on his Magnetick Lady. 

Is this y'' Load-stone Ben that must attract 
Applause and laughter at each scene and act? 
Is this the child of your bed-ridden witt 
And none but y^ black-friers to foster it? 
If to the fortune y©u had sent yovr Lady, 
Mongst prentises or applewives, it may be 
13 



178 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

♦ Your Rosy foole might have some sport begott 
With his Strang habit & indefinite nott, 
But when as silke and push & all the witts 
Are cal'd to see, and censure as befitts; 
And if your folly take not, they perchance 
Must here themselves stil'd Gentle Ignorance. 
Foh how it stinkes! what generall ofifence 
Gives thy prophaneness such gross impudence? 
O how y'' freind Natt : Butter gan to melt 
When at the pooreness of your platt he smelt 
And Inigo with laughter then grew fatt 
That ther was nothing ther worth laughing att. 
And yet thou crazy wretch art confident 
Belching out full-mouth'd oathes w*^ foule intent 
Calling vs fooles and rogues vnletterd men 
Poore narrow soules y* cannot judge of Ben. 
Yet what is worse after three shamefuU foyles 
The printer must be put to further toyles 
Whereas indeede to vindicate thy fame 
Th' hadst better given thy pamp[h]let to y*^ fiame. 
Oh what a strange prodigious yeare t'wil bee! 
If this thy play come forth in thirtie three; 
Let Dom.es Day rather come on newe years eve 
And of thy paper plague y*' world bereave. 
Which plague I feare worse than a Servant's bitt 
W^orst then infection or an ague fitt. 
Worse then the Astronomers Divining lipps 
Worse then three suns, a comet, or eclips: 
Or if thy learned brother Allestree 
(Whose Homer vnto thee for Poetrie) 
Should tell of raine vpon St Swithins day. 
And y* should wash our harvest quite away. 
As for y^ press if thy play must come to it 
Let Tho: Purfoote or John Trundle do it, 
In such dull characters, as for releifes 
Of fires and wracks wee find in begging breifes, 



TO BEN JONSON 179 

And in Cap-paper let it printed bee; 

(Indeede brown paper is to good for thee) 

But let it then be soe Apocryphall 

As not to dare to venter on a stall 

Vnless of Druggers, Grocers, Chandlers, Cooks, 

Victuallers, Tobacco men, & such like rookes; 

From bucklers bury let it not be bar'd 

But thinke not of Duck lane, or Pauls-church-yard: 

But to advise thee Ben in this strict age 

A Brick-kilne's better for thee then a stage 

Tho[u] better knowest a grounsel how to lay 

Then lay the plott or groundworke of a play; 

And better canst direct to cappe a chimny 

Then to converse w*^ Clio or Polyhymny, 

Fall to thy trade in thy old age agen. 

Take vp thy trugge and trowell gentle Ben ; 

Let playes alone, or if thou needs will write 

And thrust thy feeble muse forth into light, 

Lett Lowin cease and Taylor fear to touch 

The loathed stage, for now thou makst it such. 

[From a seventeenth century commonplace-book in the possession of 
one of the editors of this volume; see Modern Language Review, 
vii, 296. A sHghtly imperfect copy, with some variant readings, 
from the Ashmole MSS., is printed in The Works of Ben Jonson, 
ed. GifTord-Cunningham, 1871, ii, 437.] 

Zouch Townley, 1633. 

To Mr. Ben Johnson against Mr. Alexander Gill's verses wrighten 
by hym against the play called The Magnettick Ladye. 
Itt cannott move thy frind, firme Ben, that hee 
Whome the starr-chamber censur'd, rayles at thee. 
I gratulate the metheod of thy fate. 
That joyn'd the next, in malice, to the state; 
Thus Nero, after parricidall guilt, 
Brookes noe delayes till Lucan's blood bee spilte. 
Nor could his mischife finde a second crime 
Unles hee slew the poett of the tyme. 
But, thankes to Hellicon, here are no blowes. 
This drone noe more of stinge than honye shewes; 



l8o AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

His verses shall be counted censures, when 
Cast malefactors are made jurie-men. 
Meane-while rejoyce, that soe disgrac't a quill 
Tempted to wound that worth, tyme cannot kill. 
And thou who darst to blast fame fully blowne, 
Lye buried in the ruines of thyne owne. 
Vex not thyne ashes, open nott the deepe, 
The goste of thyne slayne name would rather sleep. 

[MS. Ashmole 38 (6907), fol. 59. Printed in Wood's Athence Oxonienses, 
ed. Philip Bliss, 1815, ii, 600, and in Gifford's edition of Jonson. 
The verses are found also in the commonplace-book mentioned 
in the preceding entry, where they are entitled "To B Johnson on 
Gil's rayling."] 

George Chapman, 1633? 

An Invective written by Mr. George Chapman against Mr. Ben. 

Jonson. 

Great, learned, witty Ben, be pleased to light 

The world with that three-forked fire; nor fright 

All us, thy sublearn'd, with luciferous boast 

That thou art most great, most learn'd, witty most 

Of all the kingdom, nay of all the earth; 

As being a thing betwixt a human birth 

And an infernal; no humanity 

Of the divine soul shewing man in thee. 

Being all of pride composed and surquedry. 

Thus it might argue; if thy petulant will 

May fly-blow all men with thy great swan's-quill. 

If it can write no plays, if thy plays fail. 

All the earnests of our kingdom straight must vail 

To thy wild fury; that, as if a fiend 

Had sharp'd his sickle, shew'st thy breast is spleen 'd, 

Frisking so madly that 'gainst Town and Court 

Thou plant'st thy battery in most hideous sort. 

If thy pied humours suffer least impair. 

And any vapour vex thy virulent air. 

The Dunkerks keep not our coal ships in awe 

More than thy moods are thy admirers' law; 



TO BEN JONSOxN l8l 

All else, as well the grafters of thy paws 

With panic terrors fly, bed-rid of cause, 

And let the swinish itch of thy fell wreak 

Rub 'gainst the presence-royal without check. 

How must state use thee if thy veins thus leak. 

Thou must be muzzled, ring'd, and led in chains. 

Lest dames with child abide untim.ely pains, 

And children perish; didst thou not put out 

A boy's right eye that cross'd thy mankind pout? 

If all this yet find pardon, fee, and grace. 

The happiest outlaw th' art that ever was. 

Goodness to virtue is a godlike thing. 

And m,an with God joins in a good-doing king 

But to give vice her rein; and on all his 

(As their pure merits) to confer all this 

Who will not argue it redounds? Whatever 

Vice is sustain'd withal, turns pestilent fever. 

What nourishes virtue, evermore converts 

To blood and spirits of nothing but deserts; 

And shall a viper hanging on her hand 

By his own poison his full swindge command? 

How shall grave virtue spirit her honour'd fame 

If motley mockery m.ay dispose her shame 

Never so dully, nor with such adust 

And clouted choler? 'tis the foulest lust 

That ever yet did violate actions just. 

But if this weigh 'd, proved vile, and saucy spirit. 

Depraving every exem.plary merit. 

May yet nought less all his fat hopes inherit — 

(When men turn harpies, their blood standing lakes 

Green-bellied serpents, and black-freckled snakes, 

Crawling in their unwieldy clotter'd veins: 

Their tongues grown forked, and their sorcerous pens 

Like pictures prick'd, and hid in smoking dunghills 

Vex'd with the sun) 'tis time I think to banish 

And cast otit such unhallowedly disloyal 

From blood thrice sacred and divinely royal. 



1 82 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

There's an invention mountebank enough 

To make petards to blow up men's good names, 

Virtues and dignities, for vice's pleasure; 

Take but an idle and ridiculous crew 

Of base back-biters that it never knew 

Virtue or worth to manage; great flesh-flies 

Slight all the clear and sound parts where they pass 

And dwell upon the sores; and call to them 

The common learned gatherer of poisons 

For envied merits that we cannot equal, 

And let them glean from malice and foul mouths 

Devices long since done, and set them down 

With spleen, stupid and dead as brutish rests. 

Transforming all most wrathful fumes to jests, 

Letting the king his royal ear allow; 

And there's a reputation broke as small 

And with as mighty arguments let fall 

As the Greek man's pure bodies genital; 

So that if scandals false bear free their spite 

All guiltless forms are forced with rape and flight, 

And shall all other raisers of their names 

T'airs highest region by such short-wing'd fames 

Hold not their titles, and whole states-like tenures? 

May we not humblest things with highest rate 

And least with great'st, where right must moderate? 

Now to your parts call'd good ; your sacred desk, 

The wooden fountain of the mighty Muses, 

Alas! is burn'd; and there all their wealth fail'd 

That never can with all time be retail'd. 

Why then as good not name them? yes, O 3^es, 

Ten times repeated will all brave things please. 

Not with their titles yet, and poor self-praises. 

He lives yet (heaven be praised!) that can write 

In his ripe years much better, and new-born 

In spite of Vulcan, whom all true pens scorn. 

Yet let me name them in meantime to cheer 

His greedy followers with a prick'd-up ear. 



TO BEN JONSON 1 83 

It does himself ease, and why them no good? 

Come serve it in then: give him golden food. 

Nobody, he dares say, yet have sound parts 

Of profound search and mastery in the arts; 

And perfect then his English Grammar too 

To teach some what their nurses could not do, 

The purity of language, and among 

The rest his Journey into Scotland sung. 

And twice-twelve-years stored-up humanity. 

With humble gleanings in Divinity 

After the Fathers, and those wiser guides 

That faction had not drawn to steady sides : 

Canst thou lose these by fire, and live yet able 

To write past Jove's wrath, fire, and air, things stable. 

Yet curse as thou wert lost for every bable? 

Some poor thing write new; a rich casket, Ben, 

All of rich gems, t'adorn most learned men ; 

Or a reclaim of most facete supposes 

To teach full-habited men to blow their noses. 

Make the king merry; would'st thov now be known 

The Devil and the Vice, and both in one 

Thou doest things backwards, are m,en thought to know 

Masteries in th' arts, with saying they do so, 

And crying fire out in a dream to kings. 

Burn things unborn, and that way generate things. 

Write some new lactean way to thy high presence 

And make not ever thy strong fancy essence 

To all thou would'st be thought in all worlds' worth. 

Or else like Hercules Furens breaking forth 

Biting the green-cloth, as a dog a stone 

And for ridiculous shadow of the bone 

Hazard the substance; will thy fortune still, 

Spite of all learning, back the wit thy will, \ 

Though thy play genius hang his broken wings 

Full of sick feathers, and with forced things. 

Imp thy scenes, labour'd and unnatural. 

And nothing good comes with thy thrice-vex'd call 



1 84 AN ALLUSIOi\-BOOK 

Comest thou not yet, not yet? O no, nor yet; 

Yet are thy learn'd admirers so deep set 

In thy preferm.ent above all that cite 

The sun in challenge for the heat and light 

Of both heaven's influences which of you two knew 

And have most power in them,; Great Ben, 'tis you. 

Examine him, some truly-judging spirit. 

That pride nor fortune hath to blind his merit, 

He match'd with all book-fires, he ever read 

His dusk poor candle-rents; his own fat head 

With all the learn'd world's, Alexander's flame 

That Caesar's conquest cow'd, and stript his fame, 

He shames not to give reckoning in with his; 

As if the king pardoning his petulancies 

Should pay his huge loss too in such a score 

As all earth's learned fires he gather'd for. 

What think'st thou, just friend? equall'd not this pride 

All yet that ever Hell or Heaven defied? 

And yet for all this, this club will inflict 

His faultful pain, and him enough convict 

He only reading show'd; learning, nor wit; 

Only Dame Gilian's fire his desk will fit. 

But for his shift by fire to save the loss 

Of his vast learning, this may prove it gross: 

True Muses ever vent breaths mixt with lire 

Which, form'd in numbers, they in flam^es expire 

Not only flames kindled with their own bless'd breath 

That give th' unborn life, and eternize death. 

Great Ben, I know that this is in thy hand 

And how thou fix'd on heaven's lix'd star dost stand 

In all men's admirations and command; 

For all that can be scribbled 'gainst the sorter 

Of thy dead repercussions and reporter. 

The kingdom yields not such another man ; 

Wonder of men he is; the player can 

And bookseller prove true, if they could know 

Only one drop, that drives in such a flow. 



TO BEN JONSON 185 

Are they not learned beasts, the better far 

Their drossy exhalations a star 

Their brainless admirations may render; 

For learning in the wise sort is but lender 

Of men's prime notion's doctrine; their own way 

Of all skills' preceptible forms a key 

Forging to wealth, and honour-soothed sense. 

Never exploring truth or consequence, 

Informing any virtue or good life 

And therefore Player, Bookseller, or Wife 

Of either, (needing no such curious key) 

All men and things, may know their own rude way. 

Imagination and our appetite 

Forming our speech no easier than they light 

All letterless com.panions; t'all they know 

Here or hereafter that like earth's sons plough 

All under-worlds and ever downwards grow. 

Nor let your learning think, egregious Ben, 

These letterless com.panions are not men 

With all the arts and sciences indued. 

If of man's true and worthiest knowledge rude. 

Which is to know and be one complete man. 

And that not all the swelling ocean 

Of arts and sciences, can pour both in: 

If that brave skill then when thou didst begin 

To study letters, thy great wit had plied. 

Freely and only thy disease of pride 

In vulgar praise had never bound thy [hide]. 

[From a common-place book preserved among the Ashmole MSS. in 
the Bodleian Library; see The Works of George Chapman: Poems 
and Minor Translations, ed. A. C. Swinburne, 1875, p. 432.] 

John Rogers, 1633. 

Si cadus expletus merito Jonsonius audit, 
(Nunc licet exhaustum declamet nescia turba) 
Tute Caballini fis jure Tricongio fontis. 

[Commendatory verses prefixed to Peter Hausted's Senile Odium, 1633. 
The allusion is to the failure of Jonson's Magnetic Lady.] 



1 86 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Edward Kemp, 1633. 

Trutinam plebis amove, 
Et tolle lances: Bellua (Jonsoni) hac tui 
Magneticam socci vim, & arduam ecstasin 
Contemnere audet: merita nee satis aestimat 
Inops tribus tua, verticis gaudet nives 
Spectare, canitiemque parentis: 



Laureati (quam dolet!) 

Properavit horum contumacia Senis 
Paralysis; en! Infamise (Potens) cadis 
Reus invidendae; chartularumque veterum 
Concoctiones furta putantur. 
K'ommendatory verses prefixed to Peter Hausted's Senile Odium, 1633. 

Shackerley Marmion, 1633. 

Crit[ic to the Author]. Oh, you are deaf to all 
Sounds but a plaudit, and yet you may 
Remember, if you please, what entertainment 
Some of your tribe have had that have took pains 
To be contemn 'd, and laught at by the vulgar. 
And then ascrib'd it to their ignorance. 
I should be loth to see you move their spleens 
With no better success, and then with some 
Commendatory Epistles fly to the press. 
To vindicate your credit. 

[Prologue to A Fine Companion, 1633. The allusion is clearly to 
Jonson.] 

Anonymous, 1633? 

Jonson that whilome brought the guilty age 
To suffer for her misdeeds on ye stage, 
Ruin'd by age now cannot hold out play. 
And must bee forc'd to throw his cards away: 
For since he so ill keeps what hee earst wonne, 
Since that his reputation's lost and gone. 
The age sweares she'll no longer hold him play 
With her attention ; but without delay 



TO BEN JONSON 187 

Will rise, if some fresh Gamester will not fitte, 
That's furnished with a better stocke of witte. 

[These verses appear in a contemporary hand in a copy of the 1616 
foHo edition of Jonson, described in the Sale Catalogue of Lilly's 
books (page 160, item 1557); see J. M. Cowper, The Times Whistle, 
1871, p. xii.] 

Tradition, about 1633. 

In a Conversation between Sir John Suckling, Sir William 
D'Avenant, Endymion Porter, Mr. Hales of Eaton, and Ben 
Johnson, Sir John Suckling, who was a profess'd admirer of 
Shakespear, had undertaken his Defence against Ben. Johnson 
with some warmth; Mr. Hales, who had sat still for some time, 
hearing Ben frequently reproaching him with the want of Learn- 
ing, and Ignorance of the Antients, told him at last, 'That if 
Mr. Shakespear had not read the Antients, he had likewise not 
stollen any thing from 'em ; (a fault the other made no Con- 
science of) and that if he would produce any one Topick finely 
treated by any of them, he would undertake to shew something 
upon the same Subject at least as well written by Shakespear .' 

[Recorded by Nicholas Rowe, in his Life of Shakespeare, prefixed to 
his edition of Shakespeare, 1709, i, xiv. Charles Gildon, without 
mentioning Jonson, records the tradition with fuller details, in his 
Miscellaneous Letters and Essays, 1694. John Dryden also alludes 
to it in his Essay of Dramatic Poesy, 1668, as does Nahum Tate in 
the Dedication prefixed to his Loyal General, 1680. As for Hales, 
see P. Des Maizeaux, Life of the Ever-memorable Mr. Jo!}n Hales, 
1719.] 

George Chapman, before 1634. 

Epicure's Frugality. 

Frugality is no philosophy 
That is not gelt of pride and misery. 
That hang him like a nasty boar behind. 
And grunt him out of all the human kind ; 
That dares assume to free a man of God, 
Without whom he's a rogue past period, I 
A spawn of lust, in sack and Jonson sod./ 

[The Works of George Chapman: Poems and Minor Translations, ed. 
A. C. Swinburne, 1875, p. 434.] 



1 88 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1634. 

1633-4, January 14. The Tale of the Tub was acted on tusday 
night at Court, the 14 Janua. 1633, by the Queenes players, 
and not likte. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 54.] 

London City Records, 1634. 

Jovis xviii die septembris i6j4 Annoqiie R Rs Caroli Angliae 
etc., decimo. 

Item : this day Mr. Recorder and Sir James Hamersley Knight 
and Alderman declared unto this Court His Majesty's pleasure 
signified unto them by the right honorable the Earle of Dorsett 
for and in the behalfe of Beniamine Johnson the Cittyes Chro- 
nologer, Whereupon it is ordered by this Court that his yearely 
pencion of one hundred nobles out of the Chamber of London 
shalbe continued and that Mr. Chamberlen shall satisfie and 
pay unto him his arrerages thereof. 

[Extract from the City Records, Rep. No. 46, fol. 443.] 

Leonard Digges, before 1635. 

Upon Master William Shakespeare, the Deceased Author, and his 

Poems. 
Poets are borne not made, when I would prove 
This truth, the glad rememberance I must love 
Of never dying Shakespeare, who alone. 
Is argument enough to make that one. 
First, that he was a Poet none would doubt. 
That heard th'applause ... 
Xv So have I seen, when Cesar would appeare, 

And on the Stage at halfe-sword parley were, 
Brutus and Cassius: oh how the Audience 
Were ravish'd, with what wonder they went thence. 
When some new day they would not brooke a line, 
Of tedious (though well laboured) Catiline; 
Sejanus too was irkesome, they priz'de more 
Honest lago, or the jealous Moore. 



TO BEN JONSON 1 89 

And though the Fox and subtill Alchimist, 

Long intermitted could not quite be mist, 

Though these have sham'd all the Ancients, and might raise. 

Their Authours merit with a crowne of Bayes. 

Yet these sometimes, even at a friends desire 

Acted, have scarce defrai'd the Seacoale fire 

And doore-keepers : when let but Falstaffe come. 

Hall, Poines, the rest you scarce shall have a roome 

All is so pester'd: let but Beatrice 

And Benedicke be seene, loe in a trice 

The Cockpit, Galleries, Boxes, all are full 

To hear Malvoglio, that crosse garter'd Gull. . . . 

[Printed in Poems: Written by Wil. Shakespeare, 1640. Digges died 
in 1635.] 

Endymion Porter, before 1635. 

Upon Ben Jonson, and his Zany, Tom Randolph. 
Quoth Ben to Tom, the Lover's stole, 

'Tis Shakspeare's every word ; 
Indeed, says Tom, upon the whole, 
'Tis much too good for Ford. 

Thus Ben and Tom, the dead still praise. 

The living to decry; 
For none must dare to wear the bays, 

Till Ben and Tom both die. 

Even Avon's swan could not escape 

These letter-tyrant elves; 
They on his fame contriv'd a rape. 

To raise their pedant selves. 

But after times with full consent 

This truth will all acknowledge, — 
Shakspeare and Ford from heaven were sent. 

But Ben and Tom from college. 

[From Boswell's Variorum ed. of Shakespeare, 182 1, i, 405. Cf. the 
entry "Thomas May, 1629."] 



190 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, about 1635. 

Hax[ter]. I have, indeed, puissant sir, been in my time rallied 
amongst those blades; but it has been my scorn of late to engage 
my tuck upon unjust grounds. 

Tim[on]. Tucca, thy valour is infinitely beholden to thy 
discretion. 

[Lady Alimony, I, iii, in Hazlitt's ed. of Dodsley's Old English Plays' 
1874, xiv, 284. Tucca, created by Jonson in Poetaster, appears 
also in Dekker's Satiromastix.] 

James Howell, 1635. 

To my Honoured Friend and Fa[ther], Mr. Ben. Johnson. 
Fa. Ben, 

... I thank you for the last reglo you gave me at your 
musa?um, and for the good company. I heard you censur'd 
lately at Court, that you have lighted too foul upon Sir Inigo, 
and that you write with a Porcupine's quill dipt in too much 
gall. Excuse me that I am so free with you; it is because I am, 
in no common way of Friendship — Yours, 

J. H. 
Westm., J of May 1635. 

[EpistolcB Ho-Eliance, ed. J. Jacobs, 1892, pp. 322-24.] 

James Howell, 1635. 

To Mr. B. J. 

F. B. The Fangs of a Bear, and the Tusks of a wild Boar, 
do not bite worse, and make deeper gashes, than a Goose-quill, 
sometimes; no, not the Badger himself, who is said to be so 
tenacious of his bite, that he will not give over his hold till he 
feels his Teeth meet and the Bone crack. Your quill hath 
prov'd so to Mr. Jones; but the Pen wherewith you have so 
gash'd him, it seems, was made rather of a Porcupine than a 
Goose-quill, it is so keen and firm. You know, Anser, Apis, 
Vituhis, Populos & Regna guhernant. 

The Goose, the Bee, and the Calf (meaning Wax, Parchment, 
and the Pen) rule the World; but, of the three, the Pen is the 
most predominant. I know you have a commanding one, but 



TO BEN JONSON 19I 

you must not let it tyrannize in that manner, as you have done 
lately. Some give out there was a hair in 't, or that your Ink 
was too thick with Gall, else it would not have so bespatter'd 
and shaken the Reputation of a Royal Architect; for Reputation, 
you know, is like a fair Structure, long time a rearing, but 
quickly ruin'd. If your spirit will not let you retract, yet you 
shall do well to repress any more Copies of the Satire; for, to 
deal plainly with you, you have lost some ground at Court by it; 
and, as I hear from a good hand, the King, who hath so great a 
Judgment in Poetry (as in all other things else), is not well 
pleas'd therewith. Dispense with this freedom of — Your respect- 
ful S. and Servitor, 



Westm., J July 1635. 

[Epistola Ho-ElianrE, ed. J. Jacobs, 1892, p. 376.] 



J. H. 



The Stationers' Registers, 1635. 

Master Stansby. 

4°. Julij 1635. 

Entred for his Copies by vertue of a noate under the 
hand of Walter Burre and master Mathew Lownes 
warden bearing date the 10*'' of June 162 1 as thereby 
appeareth these Copies following (vizK) by order of a 
Court iij^ vj^ 

Every Man in his humor 
Cinthias Reuells 
Seianus 
The ffox 

The Silent Woman 
The Alchimist 
Catalyne 
[Arber's Transcript, iv, 342.] 

Title-page, 1635. 
Cataline his Conspiracy. Written by Ben: lonson. And now 
Acted by his Maiesties Servants with great Applause. . . . 
London. Printed by N. Okes, for I. S., . . . 1635. 



192 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Thomas Heywood, 1635. 

Our moderne Poets to that passe are driven, 

Those names are curtal'd which they first had given; 

And, as we wisht to have their memories drown'd, 

We scarcely can afford them halfe their sound. 

Greene, who had in both Academies ta'ne 

Degree of Master, yet could never gaine 

To be call'd m.ore than Robin: who had he 

Profest ought save the Muse, Serv'd, and been Free 

After a seven yeares Prentiseship; might have 

(With credit too) gone Robert to his grave. 

Mario, renown'd for his rare art and wit, 

Could ne're attaine beyond the name of Kit; 

Although his Hero and Leander did 

Merit addition rather. Fam,ous Kid 

Was called but Tom. Tom Watson, though he wrote 

Able to make Apollo's selfe to dote 

Upon his Muse; for all that he could strive, 

Yet never could to his full name arrive. 

Tom Nash (in his time of no small esteeme) 

Could not a second syllable redeeme. 

Excellent Bewmont, in the formost ranke 

Of the rar'st W^its, was never m.ore than Franck. 

Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose inchanting Quill 

Commanded Mirth or Passion, was but Will. 

And famous Johnson, though his learned Pen 

Be dipt in Castaly, is still but Ben. 

Fletcher and Webster, of that learned packe 

None of the mxan'st, yet neither was but Jacke. 

Deckers but Tom; nor May, nor Middleton. 

And hee's now but Jacke Foord, that once were John. 

[The Hierarchie of the Blessed Angells, 1634, p. 206.] 

Exchequer Accounts, 1635. 

Account of receipts and payments of the Exchequer from 23rd 
October to this day. * * * and among fees, — * * * "Ben- 
jamin Johnson " 25 L. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Charles I, vol. ccci, no. 29, Novem- 
ber 6, 1635.1 



TO BEN JONSON 193 

Title-page, 1636. 

Annalia Dubrensia, Upon the yeerely celebration of Mr. 
Robert Dovers Olimpick Games upon Cotswold-Hills. Written 
by Michael Drayton, Esq., John Trussell, Gent., William Dur- 
ham, Oxon., William Denny, Esq., Thomas Randall, Gent., 
Ben: lohnson. . . . [Thirty-two authors are mentioned]. Lon- 
don. Printed by Robert Raworth, for Mathewe Walbancke. 

1636. 

Thomas Heywood, 1636. 

But when Ben: lohnson, and brave Draytons name 

Shall be Inscrib'd; I dare proclaime the same 

To be a worke ennobled : For who dare 

With them (and these here intermixt) compare. 

["A Panegerick to the worthy Mr. Robert Dov^er," in Annalia Dubren- 
sia, 1636, sig. K.] 

Francis Izod, 1636. 

Achilles! happy thrice, in his thrice happy Acts, 
More happy farr, in that those much renown 'd Facts 
Of his stand on record; imortalized still, 
By sacred accent of that sweet Meonian quill ; 
Great Alexander reades, and is with envie blowne. 
That such another was not left to blaze his owne. 
Ben: Johnsons sullen Muse (brave Dover) much envies 
To vie thy sports, with that Olimpicke Exercise: 

["To his Noble Friend Mr. Robert Dover," in Annalia Dubrensia, 
1636, sig. D4.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1636. 

1635-^, February 18. The Silent Woman playd at Court of 
St. James on thursday y'^ 18 Febr. 1635. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 55.] 

Actors' Bill for Plays at Court, 1636. 

Playes acted before the Kinge and Queene this present yeare of 

the Lord 1636. 

1. Easter munday at the Cockpitt the firste parte of Arviragus. 

2. Easter tuesday at the Cockpitt the second parte of Arviragus. 

14 



194 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

3. The 4th of Aprill at the Cockpitt the Silent Woman. . . . 

[From a bill presented by the King's Company for plays acted before 
the King and Queen in 1636. Twenty-two plays in all were 
acted, only one of which was by Jonson. See The Dramatic 
Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 75.] 

James Howell, 1636. 

To Sir Tho. Hawk, Knight. 
Sir, 

I was invited yesternight to a solemn Supper, by B. J., 
where you were deeply remember'd; there was good company, 
excellent cheer, choice wines, and jovial welcome: One thing 
interven'd, which almost spoil'd the relish of the rest, that B. 
began to engross all the discourse, to vapour extremely of himself, 
and, by vilifying others, to magnify his own Muse. T. Ca. 
buzz'd me in the ear, that tho' Be?t. had barrell'd up a great deal 
of knowledge, yet it seems he had not read the Ethiqiies, which, 
among other precepts of Morality, forbid self-commendation, 
declaring it to be an ill-favour'd solecism in good manners. . . . 
But for my part, I am content to dispense with the Roman 
infirmity of B. now that time hath snowed upon his pericranium. 
You know Ovid, and (your) Horace were subject to this humour, 
... as also Cicero. . . . There is another reason that excuseth 
B., which is, that if one be allowed to love the natural issue of 
his Body, why not that of the Brain, which is of a spiritual and 
more noble extraction? ... I am, Sir — Your very humble and 
most faithful Servitor, 

J. H. 
Westm., 5 Apr. i6j6. 

[EpistolcB Ho-EUancE, ed. J. Jacobs, 1892, p. 403.] 

Philip Massinger, before 1637. 

The Copie of a Letter written upon occasion to the Earle of Pembroke 
ho: Chamberlaine. 
My Lord, 

... I know 
That Johnson much of what he has does owe 



TO BEN JONSON 1 95 

To you and to your familie, and is never slow 
To professe it. . . . 

[MS. G. 2. 21 of Trinity College, Dublin, pp. 554-59, reproduced in 
The AthencBum, September 8, 1906, p. 273. In the Dublin MS. 
the poem is attributed to Massinger; but in the Gifford-Cunning- 
ham edition of Jonson, I, lix, this letter is said to have been written 
by Eliot and addressed to the Earl of Montgomery; it is quoted 
from his "Poems, p. 108."] 

Anonymous, before 1637. 

An Elegie on the death of that famous Writer and Actor, M. William 

Shakspeare. 

I dare not doe thy Memory that wrong, 

Unto our larger griefes to give a tongue; 

He onely sigh in earnest, and let fall 

My solemne teares at thy great Funerall; 

For every eye that raines a showre for thee. 

Laments thy losse in a sad Elegie. 

Nor is it fit each humble Muse should have, 

Thy worth his subject, now th'art laid in grave; 

No its a flight beyond the pitch of those. 

Whose worthies Pamphlets are not sence in Prose. 

Let learned Johnson sing a Dirge for thee, 

And fill our Orbe with mournefull harmony: 

But we neede no Remembrancer, thy Fame 

Shall still accompany thy honoured Name, 

To all posterity; and make us be, 

Sensible of what we lost in losing thee: 

Being the Ages wonder whose smooth Rhimes 

Did more reforme than lash the looser Times. . . , 

[Appended to Poems: Written by Wit. Shakespeare, 1640. Certain 
echoes of Jonson's verses to Shakespeare in the Folio of 1623 are 
obvious.] 

Tradition, before 1637. 

One day, being rallied by the Dean of Westminster about 
being buried in the Poets' Corner, the poet is said to have replied 
(we tell the story as current in the Abbey) : "I am too poor for 
that, and no one will lay out funeral charges upon me. No, sir, 



196 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

6 feet long by 2 feet wide is too much for me : 2 feet by 2 feet 
will do for all I want." "You shall have it," said the Dean, 
and thus the conversation ended. 

[Peter Cunningham, Handbook of London. For a discussion of this 
eccentric request, and the citation of evidence to show that Jonson, 
in accordance with his request, was buried in an upright position, 
see Joseph Q. Adams, The Bones of Ben Jonson, in Studies in Phi- 
lology, xvi, 280.] 

Sir John Suckling, about 1637. 

A Session of the Poets. 

A session was held the other day, 
And Apollo himself was at it, they say. 
The laurel that had been so long reserv'd. 
Was now to be given to him best deserv'd. 

And 
Therefore the wits of the town came thither, 
'Twas strange to see how they flocked together. 
Each strongly confident of his own way. 
Thought to gain the laurel away that day. 

The first that broke silence was good old Ben, 
Prepared before with canary wine, 
And he told them plainly he deserved the bays, 
For his were called works, where others were but plays. 

And 
Bid them remember how he had purg'd the stage 
Of errors, that had lasted many an age. 
And he hoped they did not think the Silent Woman, 
The Fox and the Alchemist, outdone by no man. 

Apollo stopt him there, and bade him not go on, 
'Twas merit, he said, and not presumption 
Must carry 't, at which Ben turned about. 
And in great choler ofifer'd to go out: 



But 



Those that were there thought it not fit 
To discontent so ancient a wit; 
And therefore Apollo call'd him back again. 
And made him mine host of his own New Inn. 

[Fragmenta A urea, 1646.] 



TO BEN JONSON 197 

Anonymous, about 1637. 

A Letter to Ben. Johnson. 
Die Johnson, crosse not our Religion so 
As to be thought immortall ; let us know 
Thou art no God; thy works make us mistake 
Thy person, and thy great creations m,ake 
Us Idoll thee, and cause we see thee do 
Eternall things, think thee eternall too. 
Restore us to our faith and dye, thy doome 
Will do as much good as the fall of Rome: 
'Twill crush an heresie, we ne're must hope 
For truth till thou be gon, thou and the Pope. 
And though we may be certaine in thy fall 
To lose both wit and judgement, braines and all, 
Thou Sack, nor Love, nor Tim.e recover us. 
Better be fooles than superstitious. 
Dye! to what end should we thee now adore, 
There is not SchoUership to live to more, 
Our language is refin'd : professors doubt 
Their Greek and Hebrew both shall be put out 
And we that Latin studied have so long 
Shall now dispute and write in Johnsons tongue, 
Nay, courtiers yeeld, and every beautious wench 
Had rather speak thy English then her French. 
But for thy matter fancy stands agast 
Wondering to see her strength thus best at last. 
Invention stops her course and bids the world 
Look for no m.ore; she hath already hurld 
Her treasure all on one, thou hast out-done 
So much our wit and expectation. 
That were it not for thee, we scarse had known 
Nature her selfe could ere so farre have gon. 
Dye! seemes it not enough thy verse's date 
Is endlesse; but thine own prolonged fate 
Must equall it; for shame engross not age 
But now (the fi[f]th Act ended) leave the stage. 
And let us clap, we know the Stars that do 
Give others one life, give a laureat two. 



198 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

But thou, if thus thy body long survives, 

Hast two eternities, and not two Hves. 

Die for thine own sake, seest thou not thy praise 

Is shortned onely by this length of daies. 

Men may talk this, and that, to part the strife, 

My tenet is, thou hast no fault but life. 

Old Authors do speed best, me-thinks thy warm breath 

Casts a thick mist betwixt thy worth, which death 

Would quickly dissipate. If thou wouldst have 

Thy Bayes to flourish, plant them on thy grave. 

Gold now is drosse, and Oracles are stuffe 

With us, for why? Thou art not low enough. 

We still look under thee. Stoop, and subm.it 

Thy glory to the meanest of our wit. 

The Rhodian Colossus, ere it fell. 

Could not be scan'd and measured, half so well. 

Lie levell to our view, so shall we see. 

Our third and richest University. 

Art's length. Art's heighth, Art's depth, can ne're be found, 

Till thou art prostrate, stretch 'd upon the ground. 

Learning no farther then thy life extends. 

With thee began all Arts, with thee it ends. 

[Wit'Restor'd In Severall Select Poems Not formerly publish' t, 1658, 
pp. 79-81.1 

Benjamin Wright, 1637. 

Letter to Endymion Porter, May 2, 1637. 

2 May 1637. My service to Mr. Hobbes. Pray tell him Mr. 

Warner would make us believe miracles by a glass he can make. 

I doubt he will prove Ben's Doctor Subtle. 

[From the Cavendish Papers; in the Thirteenth Report of the Royal 
Commission on Historical Manuscripts, 1892, ii, 131. The allusion 
is to a character in The Alchemist.] 

Sir Edward Walker, 1637. 
Anno 1637. — ^Thursday, 17 August. — Died at Westminster 
Mr. Benjamin Johnson, the most famous, accurate, and learned 
poet of our age, especially in the English tongue, having left 



TO BEN JONSON 1 99 

behind him many rare pieces which have sufficiently demon- 
strated to the world his worth. He was buried the next day 
following, being accompanied to his grave with all or the greatest 
part of the nobilitye and gentrie then in the towne. 

[Notes from a MS. of Sir Edward Walker, Kt. Garter, in his own hand, 
Notes and Queries, ist S., October 30, 1852, p. 405. Jonson died 
on August 6, Old Style; Walker is presumably using the new style.] 

Act Book, 1637. 

There can be little doubt of his identity with the 'Beniaminus 

Johnson, nuper civitatis Westmonasterii,' administration of 

whose goods — of the value of eight pounds eight shillings and 

tenpence — was granted on 22 August, 1637, to William Scandret, 

'uni Creditorum.' 

[Entry relating to Ben Jonson, in Act Book, 1637, folio 53, in the Com- 
missary Court of Westminster, Notes and Queries, loth S., February 
18, 1905, p. 125.] 

King Charles I, 1637. 

Letter to the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of London, August (?), i6jy. 
We understand that the place of historian to the city of London 
is become void by the death of "Benjamin Johnson." We 
recommend Thomas May, whom we know to be every way 
qualified for that employment, expecting that you forthwith 
choose him to the said place. 

[Calendar of State Papers, Domestic, Charles I, vol. ccclxvi, no. 66.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1637. 

Henry Gosson 

9°. Octobris 1637. 

Entred for his Copie under the hands of master Baker 
and IVIaster Aspley warden a Booke called an Eligie 
upon the Death of Beniamin Johnson Poett. by John 
Taylor vj^ 

[Arber's Transcript, iv, 394.] 

Thomas Willford, 1637? 

An Epitaph upon the most learned Comedian and Modern Poet, 
Beniamin Johnson, who lejt the Church and died Ano Dom'i 
MDCXXX[Vir\. 



200 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Here Johnson lies, who spent his days, 

In making sport, and comicke plays: 

His life a Play, perform'd the worst, 

The last Act did disgrace the first, 

His part he plaid, exceeding well, 

A Catholike, untill he fell 

To Sects and Schismes, which he did chuse. 

Like to a fiction of his Muse. 

He staid there till the Scene was past, 

Without a Plaudit given at last: 

So ill he plaid, the later part, 

The Epilogue did breake his heart. 

When Death his bodie did surprise, 

The Fatall Sisters clos'd his eyes. 

And took him to his tyring roome; 

Where I will leave him to his doome; 

But wish that I could justly raise, 

Memorialls of eternall praise. 

But Ben, from whence thy mischiefe grew, 

I mourne, but must not say, Adue. 

[Add. MS. 5541, a volume of verses, Hyemall Pastimes, by Thomas 
Willford; reproduced in The Atheyiaum, March 20, 19 15, p. 272.] 

Mildmay Fane, Earl of Westmorland, 1637. 

In Ohitum Ben Johns. Poetce. eximii. 

He who began from Brick and Lime 

The Muses Hill to climbe; 
And whilom busied in laying Ston, 

Thirsted to drink of Helicon; 

Changing His Trowell foi a Pen, 
Wrote straight the Temper not of Dirt but Men. 

Now sithence that He is turn'd to Clay, and gone 

Let Those remain of th'occupation 
He honor'd once, square Him a Tomb may say 
His Craft exceeded farr a Dawbers way. 



TO BEN JONSON 201 

Then write upon't, He could no longer tarry, 
But was return'd again unto the Quarry. 

[Poems of Mildmay, in A. B. Grosart's Unique or Very Rare Books, 
1879, X, 169. At the Anderson Galleries in New York was sold 
on April 29, 1920, Mildmay's own copy of Jonson's Workes, 1616, 
with this poem written on the inside cover.] 

Sir Kenelm Digby, 1637. 

To Doctor Duppa, the Dean of Chiistchurch, and the Prince's Tutor. 
Sir, 

I UNDERSTAND, with much gladness, you have been careful to 
gather what has been written upon Mr. Johnson since his death. 
It is an office well beseeming that excellent piety that all men 
know you by; yet were but half performed if you should let it 
rest here. As your own tenderness towards that worthy man 
hath m.ade you seek to bathe yourself in his friends' tears, so 
your humanity towards the public, which good m.en rejoice to 
see you in the way so much to advance, ought not to be satisfied 
until you have given it a propriety in these collections. Besides, 
I believe, if care of earthly things touch souls happily departed, 
that these compositions delivered to the world by your hand, 
will be more grateful obsequies to his great ghost, than any other 
that could have been perform.ed at his tomb; for no Court's 
decree can better establish a lawful claim.er in the secure posses- 
sion of his right, than this will him of his laurel, which, when he 
lived, he wore so high above all mien's reach, as none could touch, 
much less shake from off" his reverend head. I am writing, by 
this private incitemen-t'of you unto so just a work, to witness in a 
particular manner to yourself, who loved him dearly, the great 
value and esteem I have of this brave man ; the honour of his 
age; and he that set a period to the perfection of our language: 
and will, as soon as I can do the like to the world, by making 
it share with me in those excellent pieces, alas that many of them 
are but pieces! which he hath left behind him, and that I keep 
religiously by m.e to that end. I promise myself that your 
goodness and friendliness to m.e will pardon me for that awhile 
diverting your thoughts, that are continually busied about what 
is of great consequence, knowing m.e to be, 



202 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Your most affectionate and humble servant. 

[Harl. MS. 4153, f. 21, reproduced in Private Memoirs of Sir Kenelm 
Digby, 1827, pp. Hii-iv.] 

James Howell, 1638. 

To Dr. Duppa, L. B. of Chichester, His Highnesses Tutor at St. 

James. 
My Lord, 

It is a well-becoming and very worthy work you are about, 
not to suffer Mr. Ben. Johnson to go so silently to his grave, or 
rot so suddenly: Being newly come to Town, and understanding 
that your Johnsonus Virbius was in the Press, upon the solicita- 
tion of Sir Thomas Hawkins, I suddenly fell upon the ensuing 
Decastic, which if your Lordship please, may have room among 
the rest. 

Upon my honoured Friend and F., Mr. Ben. Johnson. 
And is thy Glass run out, is that oil spent 
Which light to such strong sinewy Labours lent? 
Well Ben, I now perceive that all the Nine, 
Tho' they their utmost forces should combine. 
Cannot prevail 'gainst Night's three daughters, but 
One still must spin, one wind, the other cut. 
Yet in despite of distaff, clue, and knife. 
Thou in thy strenuous Lines hast got a Light, 
Which like thy Bays shall flourish ev'ry age, 
While sock or buskin shall attend the stage. 

— Sic vaticinatur Hoellus. 

So I rest, with many devoted respects to your Lordship, as 

being — Your very humble Servitor, 

J. H. 
Land., i of May 1636 [1638]. 

[Epistola Ho-Eliance, ed. J. Jacobs, 1892, p. 332.] 

Title-page, 1638. 

lonsonus Virbius: or the Memorie of Ben: Johnson Revived 
by the Friends of the Muses. London, printed by E. P. for 
Henry Seile. 1638. 



TO BENJONSON 203 

E. P., 1638. 

The Printer to the Reader. 
It is now about six months since the most learned and judicious 
poet, B. Jonson, became a subject for these Elegies. The time 
interjected between his death and the pubUshing of these, shows 
that so great an argument ought to be considered, before handled; 
not that the gentlemen's affections were less ready to grieve, 
but their judgments to write. At length the loose papers were 
consigned to the hands of a gentleman [Dr. Bryan Duppa, 
Bishop of Winchester], who truly honored him (for he knew 
why he did so). To his care you are beholding that they are 
now made yours. And he was willing to let you know the value 
of what you have lost, that you might the better recommend 
what you have left of him, to your posterity. 

Farewell, 

E. P. 
[Prefixed to Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Lucius Gary, Viscount Falkland, 1638. 

An Eclogue on the Death of Ben Jonson, between Meliboeus 

and Hylas. 

Mel. Hylas, the clear day boasts a glorious sun. 
Our troop is ready, and our time is come: 
That fox who hath so long our lambs destroy 'd. 
And daily in his prosperous rapine joy'd, 
Is earth'd not far from hence; old ^Egon's son. 
Rough Corilas, and lusty Corydon, 
In part the sport, in part revenge desire. 
And both thy tarrier and thy aid require. 
Haste, for by this, but that for thee we stay'd, 
-The prey-devourer had our prey been made. 

Hyl. Oh! Melibaeus, now I list not hunt, 
Nor have that vigor as before I wont; 
My presence will afford them no relief, 
That beast I strive to chase is only grief. 

Mel. What mean thy folded arms, thy downcast eyes. 
Tears which so fast descend, and sighs which rise? 



204 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

What mean thy words which so distracted fall 

As all thy joys had now one funeral? 

Cause for such grief, can our retirements yield? 

That follows courts, but stoops not to the field. 

Hath thy stern step-dame to thy sire reveal'd 

Some youthful act, which thou couldst wish conceal'd? 

Part of thy herd hath som,e close thief convey'd 

From open pastures to a darker shade? 

Part of thy flock hath som.e fierce torrent drown'd? 

Thy harvest fail'd, or Amarillis frown 'd? 

Hyl. Nor love nor anger, accident nor thief. 
Hath rais'd the waves of m.y unbounded grief: 
To cure this cause, I would provoke the ire 
Of my fierce step-dame or severer sire. 
Give all my herds, fields, flocks, and all the grace 
That ever shone in Amarillis' face. 
Alas, that bard, that glorious bard is dead, 
Who, when I whilom cities visited. 

Hath made them seem but hours, which were full days. 
Whilst he vouchsafed m.e his harmonious lays: 
And when he lived, I thought the country then 
A torture, and no mansion, but a den. 

Mel. JoNSON you m.ean, unless I much do err, 
I know the person by the character. 

Hyl. You guess aright, it is too truly so. 
From no less spring could all these rivers flow. 

Mel. Ah, Hylas! then thy grief I cannot call 
A passion, when the ground is rational. 
I now excuse thy tears and sighs, though those 
To deluges, and these to tempests rose: 
Her great instructor gone, I know the age 
No less laments than doth the widow'd stage. 
And only vice and folly now are glad. 
Our gods are troubled, and our prince is sad: 
He chiefly who bestows light, health, and art, 
Feels this sharp grief pierce his immortal heart. 
He his neglected lyre away hath thrown. 
And wept a larger, nobler Helicon, 



TO BEX JONSON 205 

To find his herbs, which to his wish prevail, 
For the less love should his own favorite fail : 
So moan'd himself when Daphne he ador'd. 
That arts relieving all, should fail their lord. 

Hyl. But say, from whence in thee this knowledge springs, 
Of what his favor was with gods and kings. 

Mel. Dorus, who long had known books, men, and towns. 
At last the honor of our woods and downs. 
Had often heard his songs, was often fir'd 
With their enchanting power, ere he retir'd, 
And ere himself to our still groves he brought, 
To meditate on what his muse had taught: 
Here all his joy was to revolve alone. 
All that her music to his soul had shown, 
Or in all meetings to divert the stream 
Of our discourse; and make his friend his theme. 
And praising works which that rare loom hath weav'd, 
Impart that pleasure which he had receiv'd. 
So in sweet notes (which did all tunes excell. 
But what he praised) I oft have heard him tell 
Of his rare pen, what was the use and price. 
The bays of virtue and the scourge of vice: 
How the rich ignorant he valued least, 
Nor for the trappings would esteem the beast; 
But did our youth to noble actions raise, 
Hoping the meed of his im.mortal praise: 
How bright and soon his Muse's morning shone. 
Her noon how lasting, and her evening none. 
How speech exceeds not dumbness, nor verse rose. 
More than his verse the low rough times of those, 
(For such, his seen, they seem'd), who highest rear'd, 
Possest Parnassus ere his power appear'd. 
Nor shall another pen his fame dissolve. 
Till we this doubtful problem can resolve. 
Which in his works we most transcendant see. 
Wit, judgment, learning, art, or industry; 
Which till is never, so all jointly flow, 
And each doth to an equal torrent grow: 



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His learning such, no author old nor new, 

Escap'd his reading that deserved his view, 

And such his judgment, so exact his test, 

Of what was best in books, as what books best, 

That had he join'd those notes his labors took, 

From each most prais'd and praise-deserving book, 

And could the world of that choice treasure boast, 

It need not care though all the rest were lost: 

And such his wit, he writ past what he quotes. 

And his productions far exceed his notes. 

So in his works where aught inserted grows, 

The noblest of the plants engrafted shows. 

That his adopted children equal not. 

The generous issue his own brain begot: 

So great his art, that much which he did write. 

Gave the wise wonder, and the crowd delight, 

Each sort as well as sex admir'd his wit. 

The he's and she's, the boxes and the pit; 

And who less lik'd within, did rather choose. 

To tax their judgments than suspect his muse. 

How no spectator his chaste stage could call 

The cause of any crime of his, but all 

With thoughts and wills purg'd and amended rise, 

From th' ethic lectures of his comedies. 

Where the spectators act, and the sham'd age 

Blusheth to meet her follies on the stage; 

W^here each man finds some light he never sought. 

And leaves behind some vanity he brought; 

Whose politics no less the minds direct. 

Than these the manners, nor with less effect. 

When his Majestic Tragedies relate 

All the disorders of a tottering state. 

All the distempers which on kingdoms fall. 

When ease, and wealth, and vice are general. 

And yet the minds against all fear assure. 

And telling the disease, prescribe the cure: 

Where, as he tells what subtle ways, what friends, 

(Seeking their wicked and their wish'd-for ends) 



TO BEN JONSON 207 

Ambitious and luxurious persons prove, 

Whom vast desires, or mighty wants do move, 

The general frame to sap and undermine. 

In proud Sejanus, and bold Catiline; 

So in his vigilant Prince and Consul's parts. 

He shows the wiser and the nobler arts. 

By which a state may be unhurt, upheld. 

And all those works destroyed, which hell would build. 

Who (not like those who with small praise had writ, 

Had they not call'd in judgment to their wit) 

Us'd not a tutoring hand his to direct, 

But was sole workman and sole architect. 

And sure by what my friend did daily tell. 

If he but acted his own part as well 

As he writ those of others, he may boast, 

The happy fields hold not a happier ghost. 

Hyl. Strangers will think this strange, yet he (dear youth) 
Where most he past belief, fell short of truth. 
Say on, what more he said, this gives relief, 
And though it raise my cause, it bates my grief, 
Since fates decreed him now no longer liv'd, 
I joy to hear him by thy friend reviv'd. 

Mel. More he would say, and better, (but I spoil 
His smoother words with my unpolish'd style) 
And having told what pitch his worth attain'd. 
He then would tell us what reward it gain'd : 
How in an ignorant, and learn 'd age he sway'd, 
(Of which the first he found, the second made) 
How he, when he could know it, reap'd his fame, 
And long out-liv'd the envy of his name: 
To him how daily fiock'd, what reverence gave. 
All that had wit, or would be thought to have. 
Or hope to gain, and in so large a store. 
That to his ashes they can pay no more. 
Except those few who censuring, thought not so, 
But aim'd at glory from so great a foe: 
How the wise too, did with mere wits agree. 



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As Pembroke, Portland, and grave Aubigny; 
Nor thought the rigid'st senator a shame. 
To contribute to so deserv'd a fame: 
How great EHza, the retreat of those 
Who, weak and injur'd, her protection chose. 
Her subjects' joy, the strength of her aUies, 
The fear and wonder of her enemies. 
With her judicious favors did infuse 
Courage and strength into his younger muse. 
How learned James, whose praise no end shall find, 
(But still enjoy a fame pure like his mind) 
Who favor'd quiet, and the arts of peace, 
(Which in his halcyon days found large encrease) 
Friend to the humblest if deserving swain, 
Who was himself a part of Phoebus' train, 
Declar'd great Jonson worthiest to receive 
The garland which the Muses' hands did weave 
And though his bounty did sustain his days, 
Gave a more welcome pension in his praise. 
How mighty Charles amidst that weighty care, 
In which three kingdoms as their blessing share, 
Whom as it tends with ever watchful eyes, 
That neither power may force, nor art surprise. 
So bounded by no shore, grasps all the main, 
And far as Neptune claims, extends his reign ; 
Found still some time to hear and to admire, 
The happy sounds of his harmonious lyre, 
And oft hath left his bright exalted throne, 
And to his Muse's feet combin'd his own; 
As did his queen, whose person so diselos'd 
A brighter nymph than any part impos'd. 
When she did join, by an harmonious choice. 
Her graceful motions to his powerful voice: 
How above all the rest was Phoebus fired 
With love of arts, which he himself inspired. 
Nor oftener by his light our sense was cheer d. 
Than he in person to his sight appear'd. 



TO BEN JONSON 209 

Nor did he write a line but to supply, 
With sacred flame the radiant god was by. 

Hyl. Though none I ever heard this last rehearse, 
I saw as much when I did see his verse. 

Mel. Since he, when living, could such honors have, 
What now will piety pay to his grave? 
Shall of the rich (whose lives were low and vile. 
And scarce deserv'd a grave, much less a pile) 
The monuments possess an ample room. 
And such a wonder lie without a tomb? 
Raise thou him one in verse, and there relate 
His worth, thy grief, and our deplored state; 
His great perfections our great loss recite. 
And let them merely weep who cannot write. 

Hyl. I like thy saying, but oppose thy choice; 
So great a task as this requires a voice 
Which must be heard, and listened to, by all, 
And Fame's own trumpet but appears too small, 
Then for my slender reed to sound his name, 
Would more my folly than his praise proclaim. 
And when you wish my weakness, sing his worth, 
You charge a mouse to bring a mountain forth. 
I am by nature form'd, by woes made, dull. 
My head is emptier than my heart is full; 
Grief doth my brain impair, as tears supply. 
Which makes my face so moist, my pen so dry. 
Nor should this work proceed from woods and downs. 
But from the academies, courts, and towns; 
Let Digby, Carew, Killigrew, and Maine, 
Godolphin, Waller, that inspired train, 
Or whose rare pen beside deserves the grace, 
Or of an equal, or a neighboring place. 
Answer thy wish, for none so fit appears, 
To raise his tomb, as who are left his heirs: 
Yet for this cause no labor need be spent. 
Writing his works, he built his monument. 

Mel. If to obey in this, thy pen be loth. 
It will not seem thy weakness, but thy sloth: 
15 



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Our towns prest by our foes invading might, 

Our ancient druids and young virgins fight, 

Employing feeble limbs to the best use; 

So JoNSON dead, no pen should plead excuse. 

For elegies, howl all who cannot sing. 

For tombs bring turf, who cannot marble bring, 

Let all their forces mix, join verse to rhyme. 

To save his fame from that invader. Time, 

Whose power, though his alone may well restrain, 

Yet to so wish'd an end, no care is vain; 

And time, like what our brooks act in our sight. 

Oft sinks the weighty, and upholds the light. 

Besides, to this, thy pains I strive to move 

Less to express his glory than thy love : 

Not long before his death, our woods he meant 

To visit, and descend from Thames to Trent, 

Mete with thy elegy his pastoral, 

And rise as much as he vouchsafed to fall. 

Suppose it chance no other pen do join 

In this attempt, and the whole work be thine? — 

When the fierce fire the rash boy kindled, reign 'd. 

The whole world suffer'd; earth alone complain 'd. 

Suppose that many more intend the same, 

More taught by art, and better known to fame? 

To that great deluge which so far destroy 'd, 

The earth her springs, as heaven his showers employ 'd. 

So may who highest marks of honor wears, 

Admit mean partners in this flood of tears; 

So oft the humblest join with loftiest things. 

Nor only princes weep the fate of kings. 

Hyl. I yield, I yield, thy words my thoughts have fired. 
And I am less persuaded than inspired; 
Speech shall give sorrow vent, and that relief, 
The woods shall echo all the city's grief: 
I oft have verse on meaner subjects made. 
Should I give presents and leave debts unpaid? 
Want of invention here is no excuse, 
My matter I shall find, and not produce. 



TO BEN JONSON 211 

And (as it fares in crowds) I only doubt, 
So much would pass, that nothing will get out. 
Else in this work which now my thoughts intend 
I shall find nothing hard, but how to end: 
I then but ask fit time to smooth my lays, 
(And imitate in this the pen I praise) 
Which by the subject's power embalm'd, may last. 
Whilst the sun light, the earth doth shadows cast. 
And, feather'd by those wings, fly among men, 
Far as the fame of poetry and Ben. 
[Jonsonus Virhius, i6j8.] 

Richard Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, 1638. 

To the Memory oj Benjamin Jonson. 

If Romulus did promise in the fight. 
To Jove the Stator, if he held from flight 
His men, a temple, and perform 'd his vow, 
Why should not we, learn 'd Jonson, thee allow 
An altar at the least? since by thy aid. 
Learning, that would have left us, has been stay'd. 
The actions were different: that thing 
Requir'd some mark to keep't from perishing. 
But letters must be quite defaced, before • 
Thy memory, whose care did them restore. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Six John Beaumont, 1638. 

To the Memory of Him Who Can Never be Forgotten, Master 
Benjamin Jonson. 

Had this been for some meaner poet's herse, 
I might have then observ'd the laws of verse: 
But here they fail, nor can I hope to express 
In numbers, what the world grants numberless: 
Such are the truths, we ought to speak of thee, 
Thou great refiner of our poesy, 
Who turn'st to gold that which before was lead; 
Then with that pure elixir rais'd the dead! 



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Nine sisters who (for all the poets lies), 
Had been deem'd mortal, did not Jonson rise, 
And with celestial sparks (not stoln) revive 
Those who could erst keep winged fame alive: 
'Twas he that found (plac'd) in the seat of wit. 
Dull grinning ignorance, and banish'd it; 
He on the prostituted stage appears 
To make men hear, not by their eyes, but ears; 
Who painted virtues, that each one might know, 
And point the man, that did such treasure owe: 
So that who could in Jonson's lines be high. 
Needed not honors, or a riband buy; 
But vice he only shewed us in a glass. 
Which by reflection of those rays that pass. 
Retains the figure lively, set before, 
And that withdrawn, reflects at us no more; 
So, he observ'd the like decorum, when 
He whipt the vices, and yet spar'd the men : 
When heretofore, the Vice's only note, 
And sign from virtue was his party-coat; 
When devils were the last men on the stage, 
And pray'd for plenty, and the present age. 
Nor was our English language only bound 
To thank him, for he Latin Horace found 
(W^ho so inspired Rome, with his lyric song) 
Translated in the macaronic tongue; 
Cloth'd in such rags, as one might safely vow. 
That his Maecenas would not own him now: 
On him he took this pity, as to clothe 
In words, and such expression, as for both. 
There's none but judgeth the exchange will come 
To twenty more, than when he sold at Rom.e. 
Since then, he made our language pure and good. 
And us to speak, but what we understood. 
We owe this praise to him, that should we join 
To pay him, he were paid but with the coin 
Himself hath minted, which we know by this. 
That no words pass for current now, but his. 



TO BEN JONSON 213 

And though he in a bHnder age could change 
Faults to perfections, yet 'twas far more strange 
To see (however times and fashions frame) 
His wit and language still remain the same 
In all men's mouths; grave preachers did it use 
As golden pills, by which they might infuse 
Their heavenly physic; ministers of state 
Their grave dispatches in his language wrate; 
Ladies made curt'sies in them, courtiers, legs, 
Physicians bills; — perhaps, some pedant begs 
He may not use it, for he hears 'tis such, 
As in few words a man may utter much. 
Could I have spoken in his language too, 
I had not said so much, as now I do, 
To whose clear memory I this tribute send, 
Who dead's my Wonder, living was my Friend. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Sir Thomas Hawkins, 1638. 

To the Memory of Master Benjamin Jonson. 
To press into the throng, where wits thus strive 
To make thy laurels fading tombs survive, 
Argues thy worth, their love, my bold desire. 
Somewhat to sing, though but to fill the quire: 
But (truth to speak) what m.use can silent be. 
Or little say, that hath for subject, thee? 
Whose poems such, that as the sphere of fire. 
They warm insensibly, and force inspire. 
Knowledge, and wit infuse, mute tongues unloose. 
And ways not track'd to write, and speak disclose. 

But when thou put'st thy tragic buskin on. 
Or com.ic sock of mirthful action. 
Actors, as if inspired from thy hand. 
Speak, beyond what they think, less, understand: 
And thirsty hearers, wonder-stricken, say. 
Thy words make that a truth, was meant a play 
Folly, and brain-sick humors of the time, 
Distemper'd passion and audacious crime, 



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Thy pen so on the stage doth personate, 
That ere men scarce begin to know, they hate 
The vice presented, and there lessons learn, 
Virtue, from vicious habits to discern. 
Oft have I seen thee in a sprightly strain, 
To lash a vice, and yet no one complain; 
Thou threw'st the ink of malice from thy pen, 
Whose aim was evil manners, not ill men. 
Let then frail parts repose, where solemn care 
Of pious friends their Pyramids prepare ; 
And take thou, Ben, from Verse a second breath. 
Which shall create Thee new, and conquer death. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Henry King, 1638. 

To the Memory of My Friend, Ben Jonson. 
I see that wreath which doth the wearer arm 
'Gainst the quick strokes of thunder, is no charm 
To keep off death's pale dart; for, Jonson, then 
Thou hadst been number'd still with living men : 
Time's scythe had fear'd thy laurel to invade, 
Nor thee this subject of our sorrow made. 

Amongst those many votaries that come 
To offer up their garlands at thy tomb. 
Whilst some more lofty pens in their bright verse, 
(Like glorious tapers flaming on thy herse) 
Shall light the dull and thankless world to see. 
How great a maim it suffers, wanting thee; 
Let not thy learned shadow scorn, that I 
Pay meaner rites unto thy memory: 
And since I nought can add but in desire, 
Restore some sparks which leap'd from thine own fire. 

What ends soever other quills invite, 
I can protest, it was no itch to write. 
Nor any vain ambition to be read. 
But merely love and justice to the dead, 
Which rais'd my fameless muse: and caus'd her bring 
These drops, as tribute thrown into that spring. 



TO BEN JONSON 215 

To whose most rich and fruitful head we owe 
The purest streams of language which can flow. 
For 'tis but truth; thou taught'st the ruder age, 
To speak by grammar; and reform'dst the stage; 
Thy comic sock induc'd such purged sense, 
A Lucrece might have heard without ofifence. 
Amongst those soaring wits that did dilate 
Our English, and advance it to the rate 
And value it now holds, thyself was one 
Help'd lift it up to such proportion, 
That, thus refined and robed, it shall not spare 
With the full Greek or Latin to compare. 
For what tongue ever durst, but ours, translate 
Great Tully's eloquence, or Homer's state? 
Both which in their unblemish'd lustre shine, 
From Chapman's pen, and from thy Catiline. 

All I would ask for thee, in recompense 
Of thy successful toil and time's expense 
Is only this poor boon; that those who can. 
Perhaps, read French, or talk Italian; 
Or do the lofty Spaniard affect, 
(To shew their skill in foreign dialect) 
Prove not themselves so' unnaturally wise 
They therefore should their mother-tongue despise; 
(As if her poets both for style and wit. 
Not equall'd, or not pass'd their best that writ) 
Until by studying Jonson they have known 
The height, and strength, and plenty of their own. 

Thus in what low earth, or neglected room 
Soe'er thou sleep'st, thy Book shall be thy tomb. 
Thou wilt go down a happy corse, bestrew'd 
With thine own flowers, and feel thyself renew'd, 
Whilst thy immortal, never- withering bays 
Shall yearly flourish in thy reader's praise: 
And when more spreading titles are forgot, 
Or, spite of all their lead and sear-cloth, rot; 
Thou wrapt and shrin'd in thine own sheets wilt lie, 
A Relic fam'd by all posterity. 
[Jotisonus Virhius, 1638.] 



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Henry Coventry, 1638. 

To the Memory oj Benjamin Jonson. 
Might but this slender offering of mine, 
Crowd 'midst the sacred burden of thy shrine, 
The near acquaintance with thy greater name 
Might style me wit, and privilege my fame. 
But I've no such ambition, nor dare sue 
For the least legacy of wit, as due. 
I come not t' offend duty, and transgress 
Affection, nor with bold presumption press, 
'Midst those close mourners, whose nigh kin in verse. 
Hath made the near attendance of thy hearse. 
I come in duty, not in pride, to shew 
Not what I have in store, but what I owe; 
Nor shall my folly wrong thy fame, for we 
Prize, by the want of wit, the loss of thee. 

As when the wearied sun hath stol'n to rest, 
And darkness made the world's unwelcome guest. 
We grovelling captives of the night, yet may 
With fire and candle beget light, not day; 
Now he whose name in poetry controls. 
Goes to converse with more refined souls, 
Like country gazers in amaze we sit. 
Admirers of this great eclipse in wit. 
Reason and wit we have to shew us men, 
But no hereditary beam of Ben. 
Our knock'd inventions may beget a spark. 
Which faints at least resistance of the dark; 
Thine like the fire's high element was pure. 
And like the same made not to burn, but cure. 
W'hen thy enraged Muse did chide o' the stage, 
'Twas to reform, not to abuse the age. 
— But thou'rt requited ill, to have thy herse, 
Stain 'd by profaner parricides in verse. 
Who make mortality a guilt, and scold. 
Merely because thou'dst offer to be old: 
'Twas too unkind a slight'ning of thy name. 
To think a ballad could confute thy fame; 



TO BEN JONSON 217 

Let's but peruse their libels, and they'll be 
But arguments they understood not thee. 
Nor is't disgrace, that in thee, through age spent 
'Twas thought a crime not to be excellent: 
For m.e, I'll in such reverence hold thy fame, 
I'll but by invocation use thy name, 
Be thou propitious, poetry shall know. 
No deity but Thee to whom I'll owe. 
[Jonsomis Virbius, 1638.] 

Thomas May, 1638. 

An Elegy upon Benjamin Jonson. 

Though once high Statius o'er dead Lucan's hearse. 
Would seem to fear his own hexameters. 
And thought a greater honor than that fear 
He could not bring to Lucan's sepulchre; 
Let not our poets fear to write of thee, 
Great Jonson, king of English poetry. 
In any English verse, let none whoe'er, 
Bring so much emulation as to fear: 
But pay without comparing thoughts at all, 
Their tribute — verses to thy funeral; 
Nor think whate'er they write on such a name, 
Can be amiss: if high, it fits thy fame; 
If low, it rights thee more, and makes men see, 
That English poetry is dead with thee; 
Which in thy genius did so strongly live. — 
Nor will I here particularly strive, 
To praise each well composed piece of thine ; 
Or shew what judgment, art and wit did join 
To make them up, but only (in the way 
That Famianus honor'd Virgil) say. 
The Muse herself was link'd so near to thee, 
Whoe'er saw one, must needs the other see; 
And if in thy expressions aught seem'd scant. 
Not thou, but Poetry itself, did want. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 



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Dudley Diggs, 1638. 

An Elegy on Ben Jonson. 
I dare not, learned Shade, bedew thy herse 
With tears, unless that impudence, in verse, 
Would cease to be a sin; and what were crime 
In prose, would be no injury in rhyme. 
My thoughts are so below, I fear to act 
A sin, like their black envy, who detract; 
As oft as I would character in speech 
That worth, which silent wonder scarce can reach. 
Yet, I that but pretend to learning, owe 
So much to thy great fame, I ought to shew 
My weakness in thy praise; thus to approve, 
Although it be less wit, is greater love: 
'Tis all our fancy aims at; and our tongues 
At best, will guilty prove of friendly wrongs. 
For, who would image out thy worth, great Ben, 
Should first be, what he praises; and his pen 
Thy active brains should feed, which we can't have. 
Unless we could redeem thee from the grave. 
The only way that's left now, is to look 
Into thy papers, to read o'er thy book; 
And then remove thy fancies, there doth lie 
Some judgment, where we cannot make, t' apply 
Our reading: some, perhaps, may call this wit, 
And think, we do not steal, but only fit 
Thee to thyself; of all thy marble wears. 
Nothing is truly ours, except the tears. 

O could we weep like thee! we might convey 
New breath, and raise men from their beds of clay 
Unto a life of fame; he is not dead. 
Who by thy Muses hath been buried. 
Thrice happy those brave heroes, whom I meet 
Wrapt in thy writings, as their winding sheet! 
For, when the tribute unto nature due, 
Was paid, they did receive new life from you; 
Which shall not be undated, since thy breath 
Is able to immortal, after death. 



TO BEN JONSON 219 

Thus rescued from the dust, they did ne'er see 
True life, until they were entomb'd by thee. 

You that pretend to courtship, here admire 
Those pure and active flames, love did inspire: 
And though he could have took his mistress' ears. 
Beyond faint sighs, false oaths, and forced tears; 
His heat was still so modest, it might warm, 
But do the cloister'd votary no harm. 
The face he sometimes praises, but the mind, 
A fairer saint, is in his verse enshrin'd. 

He that would worthily set down his praise, 
Should study lines as lofty as his plays. 
The Roman worthies did not seem to fight 
With braver spirit, than we see him write; 
His pen their valor equals; and 'that age 
Receives a greater glory from our stage. 
Bold Catiline, at once Rome's hate and fear, 
Far higher in his story doth appear; 
The flames those active furies did inspire. 
Ambition and Revenge, his better fire 
Kindles afresh; thus lighted, they shall burn, 
Till Rome to its first nothing do return. 
Brave fall, had but the cause been likewise good. 
Had he so, for his country, lost his blood! 

Some like not Tully in his own; yet while 
All do admire him in thy English style, 
I censure not; I rather think, that we 
May well his equal, thine we ne'er shall see. 
[Jonsomis Virbius, 1638.] 

George Fortescue, 1638. 

To the Immortality of My Learned Friend, Master Jonaon 

I parlied once with death, and thought to yield; 
When thou advised 'st me to keep the field; 
Yet if I fell, thou wouldst upon my herse, 
Breathe the reviving spirit of thy verse. 

I live, and to thy grateful Muse would pay 
A parallel of thanks, but that this day 



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Of thy fair rights, through th' innumerous light, 
That flows from thy adorers, seems as bright, 
As when the sun darts through his golden hair, . 
His beams' diameter into the air. 
In vain I then strive to encrease thy glory, 
These lights that go before make dark my story. 
Only I'll say, heaven gave unto thy pen 
A sacred power, immortalizing men. 
And thou dispensing life immortally, 
Does now but sabbatise from work, not die. 
[Jonsonus Virhius, 1638.] 

William Habington, 1638. 

An Elegy upon the Death of Ben J on son, the Most Excellent 
of English Poets. 
What doth officious fancy here prepare? — 
Be't rather this rich kingdom. 's charge and care 
To find a virgin quarry, whence no hand 
E'er wrought a tomb on vulgar dust to stand. 
And thence bring for this work materials fit: 
Great Jonson needs no architect of wit; 
Who forc'd from art, receiv'd from nature more 
Than doth survive him, or e'er liv'd before. 

And, poets, with what veil soe'er you hide, 
Your aim, 'twill not be thought your grief, but pride. 
Which, that your cypress never growth might want, 
Did it near his eternal laurel plant. 

Heaven at the death of princes, by the birth 
Of some new star, seems to instruct the earth. 
How it resents our hum,an fate. Then why 
Didst thou, wit's most triumphant m.onarch, die 
Without thy comet? Did the sky despair 
To teem a fire, bright as thy glories were? 
Or is it by its age, unfruitful grown. 
And can produce no light, but what is known, 
A common m.ourner, when a prince's fall 
Invites a star t' attend the funeral? 



TO BEN JONSON 221 

But those prodigious sights only create 
Talk for the vulgar: Heaven, before thy fate, 
That thou thyself might'st thy own dirges hear, 
Made the sad stage close mourner for a year; 
The stage, which (as by an instinct divine. 
Instructed) seeing its own fate in thine. 
And knowing how it ow'd its life to thee. 
Prepared itself thy sepulchre to be; 
And had continued so, but that thy wit, 
Which as the soul, first animated it, 
Still hovers here below, and ne'er shall die. 
Till time be buried in eternity. 

But you! whose comic labors on the stage. 
Against the envy of a froward age 
Hold combat! how will now your vessels sail. 
The seas so broken and the winds so frail. 
Such rocks, such shallows threat'ning every where 
And Jonson dead, whose art your course might steer ? 

Look up! where Seneca and Sophocles, 
Quick Plautus and sharp Aristophanes, 
Enlighten yon bright orb! doth not your eye, 
Among them, one far larger fire, descry, 
At which their lights grow pale? 'tis Jonson, there 
He shines your Star, who was your Pilot here. 
[Jottsonus Virbius, 1638.]- 

Edmund Waller, 1638. 

Upon Ben Jonson, the Most Excellent oj Comic Poets. 
Mirror of poets! mirror of our age! 
Which her whole face beholding on thy stage, 
Pleas'd and displeas'd with her own faults endures, 
A remedy, like those whom music cures. 
Thou not alone those various inclinations. 
Which nature gives to ages, sexes, nations. 
Hast traced with thy all-resembling pen. 
But all that custom hath impos'd on men. 
Or ill-got habits, which distort them so, 
That scarce the brother can the brother know, 



222 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Is represented to the wondering eyes, 
Of all that see or read thy Comedies. 
Whoever in those glasses looks may find, 
The spots return'd, or graces of his mind; 
And by the help of so divine an art, 
At leisure view, and dress his nobler part. 
Narcissus cozen 'd by that flattering well, 
Which nothing could but of his beauty tell, 
Had here, discovering the deform'd estate 
Of his fond mind, preserv'd himself with hate. 
But virtue too, as well as vice, is clad 
In flesh and blood so well, that Plato had 
Beheld what his high fancy once embraced, 
Virtue with colors, speech, and motion graced. 
The sundry postures of thy copious muse, 
Who would express, a thousand tongues must use: 
Whose fate's no less peculiar than thy art; 
For as thou couldst all characters impart. 
So none can render thine, who still escapes. 
Like Proteus in variety of shapes. 
Who was nor this nor that, but all we find, 
And all we can imagine in mankind. 
[Jonsonus Virbitis, 1638.] 

. James Howell, 1638. 

Upon the Poet of His Time, Benjamin Jonson, His Honored Friend 

and Father. '~^' 
And is thy glass run out? is that oil spent, 
Which light to such tough sinewy labors lent? 
-|^ Well, Ben, I now perceive that all the Nine, 

Though they their utmost forces should combine. 
Cannot prevail 'gainst Night's three daughters, but. 
One still will spin, one wind, the other cut. 
Yet in despight of spindle, clue, and knife. 
Thou, in thy strenuous lines, hast got a life, 
Which, like thy bay, shall flourish every age, 
While sock or buskin move upon the stage. 

[Jonsonus Virhius, 1638. Cf. the entry "James Howell, 1638" on 
page 202.1 



TO BEN JONSON 223 

John Vernon, 1638. 

An Offertory at the Tomb oj the Famous Poet Ben Jonson. 
If souls departed lately hence do know 
How we perform the duties that we owe 
Their reliques, will it not grieve thy spirit 
To see our dull devotion? thy merit 
Profaned by disproportion'd rites? thy herse 
Rudely defiled with our unpolish'd verse? — 
Necessity's our best excuse: 'tis in 
Our understanding, not our will, we sin; 
'Gainst which 'tis now in vain to labor, we 
Did nothing know, but what was taught by thee. 

The routed soldiers when their captains fall 
Forget all order, that men cannot call 
It properly a battle that they fight; 
Nor we (thou being dead) be said to write. 
'Tis noise we utter, nothing can be sung 
By those distinctly that have lost their tongue; 
And therefore whatsoe'er the subject be. 
All verses now become thy Elegy: 
For, when a lifeless poem shall be read, 
Th' afflicted reader sighs, Ben Jonson's dead. 
This is thy glory, that no pen can raise 
A lasting trophy in thy honor'd praise; 
Since fate (it seems) would have it so exprest. 
Each muse should end with thine, who was the best: 
And but her flights were stronger, and so high. 
That time's rude hand cannot reach her glory, 
An ignorance had spread this age, as great 
As that which made thy learned muse so sweat, 
And toil to dissipate; until, at length, 
Purg'd by thy art, it gain'd a lasting strength; 
And now secur'd by thy all-powerful writ. 
Can fear no m.ore a like relapse of wit : 

Though (to our grief) we ever must despair, 

That any age can raise thee up an heir. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 



224 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1638. 

To the Memory of Ben Jonson. 
The Muses' fairest light in no dark time; 
The wonder of a learned age; the line 
Which none can pass; the most proportion'd wit, 
To nature, the best judge of what was fit; 
The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen; 
The voice most echo'd by consenting m,en: 
The soul which answer'd best to all well said 
By others, and which m.ost requital made; 
Tuned to the highest key of ancient Rome, 
Returning all her music with his own. 
In whom with nature, study claim'd a part, 
And yet who to himself ow'd all his art: 
Here lies Ben Jonson ! Every age will look 
With sorrow here, with wonder on his Book. 
[Jonsojius Virbius, 1638.] 

John Cleveland, 1638. 

To the Same. 

Who first reform'd our stage with justest laws, 
And was the first best judge in your own cause: 
Who, when his actors trembled for applause. 

Could (with a noble confidence) prefer 
His own, by right, to a whole theatre; 
From principles which he knew could not err. 

Who to his Fable did his persons fit. 
With all the properties of art and wit, 
And above all, that could be acted, writ. 

Who public follies did to covert drive, 
Which he again could cunningly retrive. 
Leaving them no ground to rest on, and thrive, 

Here Jonson lies, whom,, had I nam'd before. 
In that one word alone, I had paid more 
Than can be now, when plenty makes me poor. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 



TO BEN JONSON 225 

Jasper Mayne, 1638. 

To the Memory of Ben Jonson. 
As when the vestal hearth went out, no fire 
Less holy than the flame that did expire, 
Could kindle it again : so at thy fall 
Our wit, great Ben, is too apocryphal 
To celebrate the loss, since 'tis too much 
To write thy Epitaph, and not be such. 
What thou wert, like th' hard oracles of old. 
Without an extasy cannot be told. 
We must be ravish'd first; thou must infuse 
Thyself into us both the theme and muse. 
Else, (though we all conspir'd to make thy herse 
Our works) so that't had been but one great verse, 
Though the priest had translated for that time 
The liturgy and buried thee in rhyme, 
So that in metre we had heard it said. 
Poetic dust is to poetic laid : 

And though, that dust being Shakspeare's, thou might'st have 
Not his room, but the poet for thy grave; 
So that, as thou didst prince of numbers die 
And live, so now thou might'st in numbers lie. 
'Twere frail solemnity: verses on thee 
And not like thine, would but kind libels be; 
And we (not speaking thy whole worth) should raise 
Worse blots, than they that envied thy praise. 
Indeed, thou need'st us not, since above all 
Invention, thou wert thine own funeral. 

Hereafter, when time hath fed on thy tomb, 
Th' inscription worn out, and the marble dumb. 
So that 'twould pose a critic to restore 
Half words, and words expir'd so long before; 
When thy maim'd statue hath a sentenced face, 
And looks that are the horror of the place, 
That 'twill be learning, and antiquity. 
And ask a Selden to say, this was thee, 
Thou'lt have a whole name still, nor need'st thou fear 
That will be ruin'd, or lose nose, or hair. 
16 



226 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Let authors write so thin, that they can't be 

Authors till rotten, no posterity 

Can add to thy works; they had their whole growth then 

When first borne, and came aged from thy pen. 

Whilst living thou enjoy 'dst the fame and sense 

Of all that time gives, but the reverence. 

W^hen thou'rt of Homer's years, no man will say 

Thy poems are less worthy, but more gray: 

'Tis bastard poetry, and of false blood 

W^hich can't, without succession, be good. 

Things that will always last, do thus agree 

With things eternal ; th' at once perfect be. 

Scorn then their censures, who gave out, thy wit 

As long upon a comedy did sit 

As elephants bring forth; and that thy blots 

And mendings took m.ore time than Fortune plots: 

That such thy drought was, and so great thy thirst, 

That all thy plays were drawn at the Mermaid first; 

That the king's yearly butt wrote, and his wine 

Hath more right than thou to thy Catiline. 

Let such men keep a diet, let their wit 

Be rack'd, and while they write, suffer a fit: 

When they've felt tortures which out-pain the gout, 

Such, as with less, the state draws treason out; 

Though they should the length of consumptions lie 

Sick of their verse, and of their poem die, 

'Twould not be thy worse scene, but would at last 

Confirm their boastings, and shew made in haste. 

He that writes well, writes quick, since the rule's true. 
Nothing is slowly done, that's always new. 
So when thy Fox had ten times acted been. 
Each day was first, but that 'twas cheaper seen; 
And so thy Alchemist played o'er and o'er. 
Was new o' the stage, when 'twas not at the door. 
We, like the actors, did repeat; the pit 
The first time saw, the next conceiv'd thy wit: 
\\'hich was cast in those forms, such rules, such arts. 
That but to some not half thy acts were parts: 



TO BEN JONSON 227 

Since of some silken judgments we may say, 

They fill'd a box two hours, but saw no play. 

So that th' unlearned lost their money; and 

Scholars sav'd only, that could understand. 

Thy scene was free from monsters; no hard plot 

Call'd down a God t' untie th' unlikely knot; 

The stage was still a stage, two entrances 

Were not two parts o' the world, disjoin 'd by seas. 

Thine were land-tragedies no prince was found 

To swim a whole scene out then o' the stage drown'd;, 

Pitch'd fields, as Red-bull wars, still felt thy doom; 

Thou laid'st no sieges to the music room; 

Nor wouldst allow, to thy best Comedies, 

Hum.ors that should above the people rise. 

Yet was thy language and thy style so high. 

Thy sock to th' ancle, buskin reach'd to th' thigh; 

And both so chaste, so 'bove dramatic clean. 

That we both safely saw, and liv'd thy scene. 

No foul loose line did prostitute thy wit, 

Thou wrot'st thy comxdies, didst not commit. 

We did the vice arraign'd not tempting hear. 

And were made judges, not bad parts by th' ear. 

For thou ev'n sin did in such words array, 

That some who came bad parts, went out good play. 

Which, ended not with th' epilogue, the age 

Still acted, which grew innocent from the stage. 

'Tis true thou hadst some sharpness, but thy salt 

Serv'd but with pleasure to reform the fault: 

Men were laugh 'd into virtue, and none more 

Hated Face acted than were such before. 

So did thy sting not blood, but hum.ors draw, 

So much doth satire more correct than law; 

Which was not nature in thee, as some call 

Thy teeth, who say thy wit lay in thy gall: 

That thou didst quarrel first, and then, in spite, 

Didst 'gainst a person of such vices write; 

That 'twas revenge, not truth, that on the stage 

Carlo was not presented, but thy rage: 



228 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And that when thou in company wert met, 

Thy meat took notes, and thy discourse was net. 

We know thy free vein had this innocence, 

To spare the party, and to brand th' offence; 

And the just indignation thou wert in 

Did not expose Shift, but his tricks and gin. 

Thou mightst have us'd th' old comJc freedom, these 

Might have seen themselves play'd like Socrates; 

Like Cleon, Mammon might the knight have been, 

If, as Greek authors, thou hadst turn'd Greek spleen; 

And hadst not chosen rather to translate 

Their learning into English, not their hate: 

Indeed this last, if thou hadst been bereft 

Of thy humanity, might be call'd theft; 

The other was not; whatsoe'er was strange, 

Or borrow'd in thee, did grow thine by the change, 

Who without Latin helps hadst been as rare 

As Beaumont, Fletcher, or as Shakspeare were: 

And like them, from thy native stock could'st say, 

Poets and kings are not born every day. 
[Jonsonus Virhitis, 1638.] 

William Cartwright, 1638. 

In the Memory of the Most Worthy Benjamin Jon son. 
Father of poets, though thine own great day. 
Struck from thyself, scorns that a weaker ray 
Should twine in lustre with it, yet my flame. 
Kindled from thine, flies upwards tow'rds thy name. 
For in the acclamation of the less 
There's piety, though from it no access. 
And though my ruder thoughts make me of those. 
Who hide and cover what they should disclose; 
Yet, where the lustre's such, he makes it seem 
Better to some, that draws the veil between. 

And what can more be hoped, since that divine 
Free filling spirit took its flight with thine? 
Men may have fury, but no raptures now; 
Like witches, charm,, yet not know whence, nor how; 



TO BEN JONSON 229 

And, through distemper, grown not strong but fierce, 
Instead of writing, only rave in verse: 
Which when by thy laws judg'd, 'twill be confess'd, 
'Twas not to be inspir'd, but be possess'd. 

Where shall we find a muse like thine, that can 
So well present and shew man unto man, 
That each one finds his twin, and thinks .thy art 
Extends not to the gestures but the heart? 
Where one so shewing life to life, that we 
Think thou taught'st custom, and not custom thee? 
Manners, that were themes to thy scenes still flow 
In the same stream, and are their comments now: 
These times thus living o'er thy models, we 
Think them not so much wit, as prophecy; 
And though we know the character, m.ay swear 
A Sybil's finger hath been busy there. 

Things common thou speak'st proper, which though known 
For public, stampt by thee grow thence thine own: 
Thy thoughts so order'd, so express'd, that we 
Conclude that thou didst not discourse, but see, 
Language so master'd, that thy numerous feet, 
Laden with genuine words, do always meet 
Each in his art; nothing unfit doth fall, 
Shewing the poet, like the wiseman, All. 
Thine equal skill thus wresting nothing, made 
Thy pen seem not so much to write as trade. 

That life, that Venus of all things, which we 
Conceive or shew, proportion'd decency. 
Is not found scatter'd in thee here and there. 
But, like the soul, is wholly everywhere. 
No strange perplexed maze doth pass for plot. 
Thou always dost untie, not cut the knot. 
Thy labyrinth's doors are open'd by one thread 
That ties, and runs through all that's done or said: 
No power comes down with learned hat and rod. 
Wit only, and contrivance is thy god. 

'Tis easy to gild gold ; there's small skill spent 
Where even the first rude m.ass is ornament: 



230 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Thy muse took harder metals, purg'd and boil'd, 

Labor'd and tried, heated, and beat and toil'd, 

Sifted the dross, filed roughness, then gave dress. 

Vexing rude subjects into comeliness. 

Be it thy glory then, that we may say, 

Thou run'st where th' foot was hinder'd by the way. 

Nor dost thou pour out, but dispense thy vein, 
Skill'd when to spare, and when to entertain : 
Not like our wits, who into one piece do 
Throw all that they can say, and their friends too; 
Pumping themselves, for one term's noise so dry. 
As if they made their wills in poetry. 
And such spruce compositions press the stage, 
When men transcribe themselves, and not the age: 
Both sorts of plays are thus like pictures shewn. 
Thine of the common life, theirs of their own. 

Thy models yet are not so fram'd, as we 
May call them libels, and not imag'ry, 
No name on any basis: 'tis thy skill 
To strike the vice, but spare the person still. 
As he, who when he saw the serpent wreath'd 
About his sleeping son, and as he breath'd. 
Drink in his soul, did so the shot contrive, 
To kill the beast, but keep the child alive: 
So dost thou aim thy darts, which, even when 
They kill the poisons, do but wake the men; 
Thy thunders thus but purge, and we endure 
Thy lancings better than another's cure; 
And justly too: for th' age grows more unsound 
From the fool's balsam, than the wiseman's wound. 

No rotten talk brokes for a laugh ; no page 
Commenc'd man by th' instructions of thy stage; 
No bargaining line there; provoc'tive verse; 
Nothing but what Lucretia might rehearse; 
No need to make good countenance ill, and use 
The plea of strict life for a looser muse. 
No woman ruled thy quill; we can descry 
No verse born under any Cynthia's eye: 



TO BEN JONSON 23 1 

Thy star was judgment only, and right sense 

Thyself being to thyself an influence. 

Stout beauty is thy grace; stern pleasures do 

Present delights, but mingle horrors too: 

Thy muse doth thus like Jove's fierce girl appear, 

With a fair hand, but grasping of a spear. 

Where are they now that cry, thy lamp did drink 
More oil than the author wine, while he did think? 
We do embrace their slander: thou hast writ 
Not for dispatch but fame; no market wit: 
'Twas not thy care, that it might pass and sell, 
But that it might endure, and be done well: 
Nor wouldst thou venture it unto the ear, 
Until the file would not make smooth, but wear; 
Thy verse came season'd hence, and would not give; 
Born not to feed the author, but to live: 
Whence 'mong the choicer judges risse a strife. 
To make thee read as classic in thy life. 
Those that do hence applause, and suffrage beg, 
'Cause they can poems form upon one leg. 
Write not to time, but to the poet's day: 
There's difference between fame, and sudden pay. 
These men sing kingdoms' falls, as if that fate 
Used the same force to a village, and a state; 
These serve Thyestes' bloody supper in. 
As if it had only a sallad been : 
Their Catilines are but fencers, whose fights rise 
Not to the fame of battle, but of prize. 
But thou still put'st true passions on; dost write 
With the same courage that tried captains fight; 
Giv'st the right blush and color unto things. 
Low without creeping, high without loss of wings; 
Smooth, yet not weak, and by a thorough care. 
Big without swelling, without painting fair. 
They, wretches, while they cannot stand to fit 
Are not wits, but materials of wit. 
What though thy searching wit did rake the dust 
Of time, and purge old metals of their rust? 



232 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Is it no labor, no art, think they, to 

Snatch shipwrecks from the deep, as divers do? 

And rescue jewels from the covetous sand, 

Making the seas hid wealth adorn the land? 

What though thy culling muse did rob the store 

Of Greek, and Latin gardens to bring o'er 

Plants to thy native soil? their virtues were 

Improv'd far more, by being planted here. 

If thy still to their essence doth refine 

So many drugs, is not the water thine? 

Thefts thus become just works; they and their grace 

Are wholly thine: thus doth the stamp and face 

Make that the king's, that's ravish'd from the mine; 

In others then 'tis ore, in thee 'tis coin. 

Blest life of authors! unto whom we owe 
Those that we had, and those that we want too: 
Thou art all so good, that reading makes thee worse. 
And to have writ so well's thine only curse. 
Secure then of thy merit, thou didst hate 
That servile base dependence upon fate: 
Success thou ne'er thoughtst virtue, nor that fit. 
Which chance, and the age's fashion did make hit; 
Excluding those from life in after time. 
Who into poetry first brought luck and rhyme; 
Who thought the people's breath good air; styled name 
What was but noise; and, getting briefs for famx, 
Gather'd the many's suffrages, and thence 
Made commendation a benevolence. 
Thy thoughts were their own laurel, and did win 
That best applause of being crown 'd within. 

And though th' exacting age, when deeper years 
Had interwoven snow among thy hairs, 
Would not permit thou shouldst grow old, 'cause they 
Ne'er by thy writings knew thee young; we may 
Say justly, they're ungrateful, when they more 
Condemn 'd thee, 'cause thou wert so good before. 
Thine art was thine art's blur, and they'll confess 
Thy strong perfumes made them not smell thy less. 



TO BEN JONSON 233 

But, though to err with thee be no small skill, 

And we adore the last draughts of thy quill : 

Though those thy thoughts, which the now queasy age 

Doth count but clods, and refuse of the stage, 

Will come up porcelain-wit some hundreds hence. 

When there will be more manners, and more sense; 

'Twas judgment yet to yield, and we afford 

Thy silence as much fame, as once thy word : 

Who like an aged oak, the leaves being gone, 

Wast food before, art now religion ; 

Thought still more rich, though not so richly stor'd, 

View'd and enjoy'd before, but now ador'd. 

Great soul of numbers, whom we want and boast 
Like curing gold, most valued now thou art lost! 
When we shall feed on refuse offals, when 
W^e shall from corn to acorns turn again; 
Then shall we see that these two names are one, 
Jonson and Poetry, which now are gone. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Joseph Rutter, 1638. 

An Elegy upon Ben Jonson. 
Now thou art dead, and thy great wit and name 
Is got beyond the reach of chance or fame, 
W'hich none can lessen, nor we bring enough 
To raise it higher, through our want of stuff, 
I find no room for praise, but elegy, 
And there but name the day when thou didst die: 
That men may know thou didst so, for they will 
Hardly believe disease or age could kill 
A body so inform'd, with such a soul, 
As, like thy verse, might fate itself control. 

But thou art gone, and we like greedy heirs. 
That snatch the fruit of their dead father's cares, 
Begin to enquire what means thou left'st behind 
For us, pretended heirs unto thy mind: 
And myself, not the latest 'gan to look 
And found the inventory in thy Book; 



234 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

A stock for writers to set up withal : 
That out of thy full comedies, their small 
And slender wits by vexing much thy writ 
And their own brains, may draw good saving wit; 
And when they shall upon some credit pitch, 
May be thought well to live, although not rich. 
Then for your songsters, masquers, what a deal 
We have! enough to make a commonweal 
Of dancing courtiers, as if poetry 
Were made to set out their activity. 
Learning great store for us to feed upon , 
But little fame; that, with thyself, is gone. 
And like a desperate debt, bequeath'd, not paid 
Before thy death has us the poorer made. 
Whilst we with mighty labor it pursue, 
And after all our toil not find it due. 
[JojisoJiJis Virbius, 1638.] 

Owen Feltham, 1638. 

To the Memory of Immortal Ben. 
To write is easy; but to write of thee 
Truth, will be thought to forfeit modesty. 
So far beyond conceit thy strengths appear, 
That almost all will doubt, what all must hear. 
For, when the world shall know, that Pindar's height, 
Plautus his wit, and Seneca's grave weight, 
Horace his matchless nerves, and that high phrase 
Wherewith great Lucan doth his readers maze. 
Shall with such radiant illustration glide, 
(As if each line to life were propertied) 
Through all thy works; and like a torrent move, 
Rolling the muses to the court of Jove, 
Wit's general tribe will soon entitle thee 
Heir to Apollo's ever verdant tree. 
And 'twill by all concluded be, the stage 
Is widow'd now; was bed-rid by thy age. 
As well as empire, wit his zenith hath. 
Nor can the rage of time, or tyrant's wrath 



TO BEN JONSON 235 

Encloud so bright a flame: but it will shine 

In spight of envy, till it grow divine. 

As when Augustus reign 'd, and war did cease, 

Rome's bravest wits were usher'd in by peace: 

So in our halcyon days, we have had now 

Wits, to which, all that after come, must bow. 

And should the stage compose herself a crown 

Of all those wits, which hitherto she has known : 

Though there be many that about her brow, 

Like sparkling stones, might a quick lustre throw; 

Yet, Shakspeare, Beaumont, Jonson, these three shall 

Make up the gem in the point vertical. 

And now since Jonson 's gone, we well may say, 

The stage hath seen her glory and decay. 

Whose judgment was't refined it? or who 

Gave laws, by which hereafter all must go, 

But solid Jonson? from whose full strong quill, 

Each line did like a diamond drop distil. 

Though hard, yet clear. Thalia that had skipt 

Before, but like a maygame girl, now stript 

Of all her m.imic jigs, became a sight 

With mirth to flow each pleas'd spectator's light. 

And in such graceful m.easures, did discover 

Her beauties now, that every eye turn'd lover. 

Who is't shall make with great Sejanus' fall, 
Not the stage crack, but th' universe and all? 
Wild Catiline's stern fire, who now shall show. 
Or quench 'd with milk, still'd down by Cicero? 
Where shall old authors in such words be shown, 
As vex their ghosts, that they are not their own? 

Admit his muse was slow. 'Tis judgment's fate 
To move, like greatest princes, still in state. 
Those planets placed in the higher spheres. 
End not their motion but in many years; 
Whereas light Venus and the giddy moon, 
In one or some few days their courses run. 
Slow are substantial bodies: but to things 
That airy are, has nature added wings. 



236 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Each trivial poet that can chant a rhyme, 
May chatter out his own wit's funeral chime: 
And those slight nothings that so soon are made, 
Like mushrooms, may together live and fade. 
The boy may make a squib; but every line 
Must be consider'd, where men spring a mine: 
And to write things that time can never stain. 
Will require sweat, and rubbing of the brain. 
Such were those things he left. For some may be 
Eccentric, yet with axioms main agree. 
This I'll presume to say. When time has made 
Slaughter of kings that in the world have sway'd : 
A greener bays shall crown Ben Jonson's name. 
Than shall be wreath'd about their regal fame. 
For numbers reach to infinite. But he 
Of whom I write this, has prevented me. 
And boldly said so much in his own praise, 
No other pen need any trophy raise. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

George Donne, 1638. 

To the Memory of Ben Jonson. 
I do not blame their pains, who did not doubt 
By labor, of the circle to find out 
The quadrature; nor can I think it strange 
That others should prove constancy in change. 
He studied not in vain, who hoped to give 
A body to the echo, make it live, 
Be seen, and felt; nor he whose art would borrow 
Belief for shaping yesterday, to-morrow: 
But here I yield; invention, study, cost. 
Time, and the art of Art itself is lost. 
When any frail ambition undertakes 
For honor, profit, praise, or all their sakes, 
To speak unto the world in perfect sense, 
Pure judgment, Jonson, 'tis an excellence 
Suited his pen alone, which yet to do 
Requires himself, and 'twere a labor too 



TO BEN JONSON 237 

Crowning the best of Poets: say all sorts 
Of bravest acts must die, without reports, 
Count learned knowledge barren, fame abhorr'd, 
Let memory be nothing but a word ; 
Grant Jonson the only genius of the times, 
Fix him a constellation in all rhymes, 
All height, all secrecies of wit invoke 
The virtue of his name, to ease the yoke 
Of barbarism; yet this lends only praise 
To such as write, but adds not to his bays: 
For he will grow more fresh in every story. 
Out of the perfum'd spring of his own glory. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Shackerley Marmion, 1638. 

A Funeral Sacrifice to the Sacred Memory of his Thrice Honored 
yC Father, Ben Jonson. 

I cannot grave, nor carve; else would I give 

Thee statues, sculptures, and thy name should live 

In tombs, and brass, until the stones, or rust 

Of thine own monument mix with thy dust: 

But nature has afforded me a slight 

And easy muse, yet one that takes her flight 

Above the vulgar pitch. Ben, she was thine, 

Made by adoption free and genuine; 

By virtue of thy charter, which from heaven, 

By Jove himself, before thy birth was given. 

The sisters nine this secret did declare. 

Who of Jove's counsel, and his daughters are. 

These from Parnassus' hill came running down, 

And though an infant did with laurels crown. 

Thrice they him kist, and took him in their arms. 

And dancing round, encircled him with charms. 

Pallas her virgin breast did thrice distil 

Into his lips, and him with nectar fill. 

When he grew up to years, his mind was all 

On verses; verses, that the rocks might call 



238 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

To follow him, and hell itself command, 

And wrest Jove's three-fold thunder from his hand. 

The satyrs oft-times hemm'd him in a ring, 

And gave him pipes and reeds to hear him sing; 

Whose vocal notes, tun'd to Apollo's lyre. 

The syrens and the muses did admire. 

The nymphs to him their gems and corals sent; 

And did with swans and nightingales present 

Gifts far beneath his worth. The golden ore, 

That lies on Tagus or Pactolus' shore, 

Might not compare with him, nor that pure sand 

The Indians find upon Hydaspes' strand. 

His fruitful raptures shall grow up to seed, 

And as the ocean does the rivers feed. 

So shall his wit's rich veins, the world supply 

With unexhausted wealth, and ne'er be dry. 

For whether he, like a fine thread does file 

His terser poems in a comic style. 

Or treats of tragic furies, and him list, 

To draw his lines out with a stronger twist : 

Minerva's, nor Arachne's loom can shew 

Such curious tracts; nor does the spring bestow 

Such glories on the field, or Flora's bowers. 

As his work smile with figures, and with flowers. 

Never did so much strength, or such a spell 

Of art, and eloquence of papers dwell. 

For whilst that he in colors, full and true, 

Men's natures, fancies, and their humors drew 

In method, order, matter, sense and grace. 

Fitting each person to his time and place; 

Knowing to move, to slack, or to make haste, 

Binding the middle with the first and last: 

He framed all minds, and did all passions stir, 

And with a bridle guide the theatre. 

To say now he is dead, or to maintain 
A paradox he lives, were labor vain: 
Earth must to earth. But his fair soul does wear 
Bright Ariadne's crown ; or is placed near 



TO BEN JONSON 239 

Where Orpheus' harp turns round with Lseda's swan: 
Astrologers, demonstrate where you can, 
Where his star shines, and what part of the sky- 
Holds his compendious divinity. 
There he is fix'd; I know it, 'cause from thence, 
Myself have lately receiv'd influence. 
The reader smiles; but let no man deride 
The emblem of my love, not of my pride. 
[Jousonns Virbius, 1638.] 

John Ford, 1638. 

On the Best of English Poets, Ben J on son, Deceased. 
So seems a star to shoot: when from our sight 
Falls the deceit, not from its loss of light; 
We want use of a soul, who merely know 
What to our passion, or our sense we owe: 
By such a hollow glass, our cozen 'd eye 
Concludes alike, all dead, whom it sees die. 
Nature is knowledge here, but unrefin'd. 
Both differing, as the body from the mind ; 
Laurel and cypress else, had grown together. 
And wither'd without memory to either: 
Thus undistinguish'd, might in every part 
The sons of earth vie with the sons of art. 
Forbid it, holy reverence, to his name. 
Whose glory hath fiU'd up the book of fame! 
Where in fair capitals, free, uncontroll'd, 
Jonson, a work of honor lives enroll'd: 
Creates that book a work; adds this far more, 
'Tis finish'd what unperfect was before. 
The muses, first in Greece begot, in Rome 
Brought forth, our best of poets hath call'd home, 
Nurst, taught, and planted here; that Thames now sings 
The Delphian altars, and the sacred springs. 
By influence of this sovereign, like the spheres. 
Moved each by other, the most low (in years) 
Consented in their harmony; though some 
Malignantly aspected, overcome 



240 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

With popular opinion, aim'd at name 
■ More than desert: yet in despight of shame 
Even they, though foil'd by his contempt of wrongs, 
Made music to the harshness of their songs. 

Drawn to the life of every line and limb, 
He (in his truth of art, and that in him) 
Lives yet, and will, whilst letters can be read; 
The loss is ours; now hope of life is dead. 
Great men, and worthy of report, must fall 
Into their earth, and sleeping there sleep all: 
Since he, whose pen in every strain did use 
To drop a verse, and every verse a muse, 
Is vow'd to heaven; as having with fair glory. 
Sung thanks of honor, or some nobler story. 
The court, the university, the heat 
Of theatres, with what can else beget 
Belief, and admiration, clearly prove 
Our Poet first in merit, as in love: 

Yet if he do not at his full appear. 

Survey him in his Works, and know him there. 

[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Ralph Bridecake, 1638. 
Upon the Death oj Master Ben Jonson. 
'Tis not secure to be too learn'd, or good. 
These are hard names, and now scarce understood : 
Dull flagging souls with lower parts, may have 
The vain ostents of pride upon their grave, 
Cut with some fair inscription, and true cry. 
That both the man and Epitaph there lie! 
Whilst those that soar above the vulgar pitch, 
And are not in their bags, but studies rich, 
Must fall without a line, and only be 
A theme of wonder, not of poetry. 
He that dares praise the eminent, he must 
Either be such, or but revile their dust; 
And so must we, great Genius of brave verse! 
With our injurious zeal profane thy herse. 



TO BEN JONSON 241 

It is a task above our skill, if we 

Presume to mourn our own dead elegy; 

Wherein, like bankrupts in the stock of fame, 

To patch our credit up, we use thy name; 

Or cunningly to make our dross to pass, 

Do set a jewel in a foil of brass: 

No, 'tis the glory of thy well-known name. 

To be eternized, not in verse but fame. 

Jonson! that's weight enough to crown thy stone: 

And make the marble piles to sweat and groan 

Under the heavy load! a name shall stand 

Fix'd to thy tomb, till time's destroying hand 

Crumble our dust together, and this all 

Sink to its grave, at the great funeral. 

If some less learned age neglect thy pen. 
Eclipse thy flames, and lose the name of Ben, 
In spight of ignorance thou must survive 
In thy fair progeny; that shall revive 
Thy scatter'd ashes in the skirts of death, 
And to thy fainting name give a new breath ; 
That twenty ages after, mer shall say , 
(If the world's story reach so long a day,) 
Pindar and Plautus with their double quire 
Have well translated Ben the English lyre. 

What sweets were in the Greek or Latin known. 
A natural metaphor has made thine own: 
Their lofty language in thy phrase so drest. 
And neat conceits in our own tongue exprest, 
That ages hence, critics shall question make 
Whether the Greeks and Romans English spake. 
And though thy fancies were too high for those 
That but aspire to Cockpit-flight, or prose. 
Though the fine plush and velvets of the age 
Did oft for sixpence damn thee from the stage, 
And with their mast and acorn stomachs ran 
To the nasty sweepings of thy serving-man, 
Before thy cates, and swore thy stronger food, 
'Cause not by them digested, was not good; 
17 



242 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

These moles thy scorn and pity did but raise, 
They were as fit to judge as we to praise. 
Were all the choice of wit and language shown 
In one brave epitaph upon thy stone, 
Had learned Donne, Beaumont, and Randolph, all 
Surviv'd thy fate, and sung thy funeral. 
Their notes had been too low; take this from me, 
None but thyself could write a verse for thee. 
{Jonsoniis Virbius, 1638.] 

Richard West, 1638. 

On Master Ben Jonson. 
Poet of princes. Prince of poets (we. 
If to Apollo, well may pray to thee). 
Give glow-worms leave to peep, who till thy night 
Could not be seen, we darken 'd were with light. 
For stars t' appear after the fall of the sun, 
Is at the least modest presumption. 
I've seen a great lamp lighted by the small 
Spark of a flint, found in a field or wall. 
Our thinner verse faintly may shadow forth 
A dull reflection of thy glorious worth: 
And (like a statue homely fashion'd) raise 
Some trophies to thy memory, though not praise. 
Those shallow sirs, who want sharp sight to look 
On the majestic splendor of thy book, 
That rather choose to hear an Archy's prate, 
Than the full sense of a learn'd laureat. 
May, when they see thy name thus plainly writ, 
Admire the solemn measures of thy wit, 
And like thy works beyond a gaudy show 
Of boards and canvas, wrought by Inigo. 
Ploughmen who puzzled are with figures, come 
By tallies to the reckoning of a sum ; 
And milk-sop heirs, which from their mother's lap 
Scarce travell'd, know far countries by a map. 

Shakspeare may make grief merry, Beaumont's style 
Ravish and melt anger into a smile; 



TO BEN JONSON 243 

In winter nights, or after meals they be, 

I must confess, very good company: 

But thou exact'st our best hours industry; 

We may read them; we ought to study thee: 

Thy scenes are precepts, every verse doth give 

Counsel, and teach us not to laugh, but live. 

Thou that with towering thoughts presum'st so high, 
(Swell'd with a vain ambitious tympany) 
To dream on sceptres, whose brave mischief calls 
The blood of kings to their last funerals. 
Learn from Sejanus his high fall, to prove 
To thy dread sovereign a sacred love; 
Let him suggest a reverend fear to thee, 
And may his tragedy thy lecture be. 
Learn the compendious age of slipp'ery power 
That's built on blood; and may one little hour 
Teach thy bold rashness that it is not safe 
To build a kingdom on a Caesar's grave. 

Thy plays were whipt and libell'd, only 'cause 
They are good, and savor of our kingdom's laws. 
Histrio-Mastix (Ughtning like) doth wound 
Those things alone that solid are and sound. 
Thus guilty men hate justice; so a glass 
Is sometimes broke for shewing a foul face. 
There's none that wish thee rods instead of bays. 
But such, whose very hate adds to thy praise. 

Let scribblers (that write post, and versify 
With no more leisure than we cast a dye) 
Spur on their Pegasus, and proudly cry. 
This verse I made in the twinkling of an eye. 
Thou couldst have done so, hadst thou thought it fit; 
But 'twas the wisdom of thy muse to sit 
-And weigh each syllable; suffering nought to pass 
But what could be no better than it was. 
Those that keep pompous state ne'er go in haste; 
Thou went'st before them all, though not so fast. 
While their poor cobweb-stuff finds as quick fate 
As birth, and sells like almanacks out of date; 



244 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The marble glory of thy labor'd rhyme 

Shall live beyond the calendar of time. 

Who will their meteors 'bove thy sun advance? 

Thine are the works of judgment, theirs of chance. 

How this whole kingdom's in thy debt! we have 

From others periwigs and paints, to save 

Our ruin'd sculls and faces; but to thee 

We owe our tongues, and fancies' remedy. 

Thy poems make us poets; we may lack 

(Reading thy Book) stolen sentences and sack. 

He that can but one speech of thine rehearse. 

Whether he will or no, must make a verse: 

Thus trees give fruit, the kernels of that fruit. 

Do bring forth trees, which in more branches shoot. 

Our canting English, of itself alone, 
(I had almost said a confusion) 
Is now all harmony; what we did say 
Before was tuning only, this is play. 
Strangers, who cannot reach thy sense, will throng 
To hear us speak the accents of thy tongue 
As unto birds that sing; if't be so good 
When heard alone, what is't when understood! 
Thou shalt be read as classic authors; and. 
As Greek and Latin, taught in every land. 
The cringing Monsieur shall thy language vent. 
When he would melt his wench with compliment. 
Using thy phrases he may have his wish 
Of a coy nun, without an angry pish! 
And yet in all thy poems there is shown 
Such chastity, that every line's a zone. 
Rome will confess that thou mak'st Caesar talk 
In greater state and pomp than he could walk: 
Catiline's tongue is the true edge of swords, 
We now not only hear, but feel his words. 
Who Tully in thy idiom understands, 
Will swear that his orations are commands. 

But that which could with richer language press 
The highest sense, cannot thy worth express. 



TO BEN JONSON 245 

Had I thy own invention (which affords 
Words above action, matter above words) 

To crown thy merits, I should only be 

Sumptuously poor, low in hyperbole. 

[Jonsonus Virbius, 163S.] 

Robert Meade, 1638. 

To the Memory of Benjamin J on son. 

Our bays, methinks, are wither'd, and they look 
As if, (though thunder-free) with envy, strook; 
While the triumphant cypress boasts to be 
Design 'd, as fitter for thy company. 

Where shall we now find one dares boldly write,. 
Free from base flattery yet as void of spight? 
That grovels not in's satires, but soars high, 
Strikes at the mounting vices, can descry 
With his quick eagle's pen those glorious crimes, 
That either dazzle, or affright the times? 
Thy strength of judgment oft did thwart the tide 
O' the foaming multitude, when to their side 
Throng'd plush, and silken censures, whilst it chose 
(As that which could distinguish men from clothes,. 
Faction from judgment) still to keep thy bays 
From the suspicion of a vulgar praise. 

But why wrong I thy memory whilst I strive, 
In such a verse as mine to keep't alive? 
Well we may toil, and shew our wits the rack, 
Torture our needy fancies, yet still lack 

Worthy expressions thy great loss to moan ; 

Being none can fully praise thee but thy own^ 

[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

H. Ramsay, 1638. 

Upon the Death oj Benjamin J on son. 
Let thine own Sylla, Ben, arise, and try 
To teach my thoughts an angry extasy, 



246 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

That I may fright Contempt, and with just darts 

Of fury stick thy palsy in their hearts! 

But why do I rescue thy naime from those 

That only cast away their ears in prose? 

Or, if some better brain arrive so high, 

To venture rhymes, 'tis but court balladry. 

Singing thy death in such an uncouth tone. 

As it had been an execution. 

What are his faults (O envy!) — That you speak 

English at court, the learned stage acts Greek? 

That Latin he reduced, and could command 

That which your Shakspeare scarce could understand? 

That he exposed you, zealots, to make known 

Your profanation, and not his own? 

That one of such a fervent nose, should be 

Posed by a puppet in Divinity? 

Fame, write them on his tomb, and let him have 

Their accusations for an epitaph : 

Nor think it strange if such thy scenes defy, 

That erect scaffolds 'gainst authority. 

Who now will plot to cozen vice, and tell 

The trick and policy of doing well? 

Others may please the stage, his sacred fire 

Wise men did rather worship than admire: 

His lines did relish mirth, but so severe. 

That as they tickled, they did wound the ear. 

Well then, such virtue cannot die, though stones 

Loaded with epitaphs do press his bones: 

He lives to me; spite of this martyrdom, 

Ben, is the self-same poet in the tomb. 

You that can aldermen new wits create, 

Know, Jonson's skeleton is laureat. 

[Jonsonus Virhius, 1638.I 



TO BEN JONSON 247 

Sir Francis Wortley, 1638. 
En 

JONSONUS NOSTER 

Lyricorum Drammaticorumque 

Coryphaeus 

Qui 

Pallade auspice 

Laurum a Graecia ipsaque Roma 

rapuit, 

Et 

Fausto omine 

In Britanniam transtulit 

nostram : 

Nunc 

Invidia major 

Fato, non yEmulis 

cessit. 

Anno Dom. CI3DIXXXVIL 
Id. Nonar. 

[Jonsonus Virbins, 1638.] 

Thomas Terrent, 1638. 

In Ohitum Ben Jonsoni Poetarum Facile Principis. 

In quae projicior discrimina? quale trementem 
Traxit in officium pietas temeraria musam? 
Me miserum! incusso pertentor frigore, et umbra 
Territus ingenti videor pars funeris ipse 
Quod celebro; famae concepta mole fatisco, 
Exiguumque strues restringuit praegravis ignem. 

Non tamen absistam, nam si spes talibus ausis 
Excidat, extabo laudum Jonsone tuarum 
Uberior testis: totidem quos secula norunt, 
Solus tu dignus, cujus praeconia spiret, 
Deliquum musarum, et victi facta poetae. 

Quis nescit, Romane, tuos in utraque triumphos 



248 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Militia, laurique decus mox sceptra secutum? 
Virgilius quoque Caesar erat, nee ferre priorem 
Noverat: Augustum fato dilatus in aevum, 
Ut regem vatem jactares regia, teque 
Suspiceres gemino praelustrem Roma monarciia. 

En penitus toto divisos orbe Britannos, 
Munera jactantes eadem, similique beatos 
Fortuna; ha^c quoque secla suum videre Maronem, 
Caesarei vixit qui laetus imagine sceptri, 
Implevitque suum Romano carmine nomen. 

Utque viam cernas, longosque ad summa paratus, 
En series eadem, vatumque simillimus ordo. 
Quis neget incultum Lucreti carmen, et Enni 
Deformes numcros, musae incrementa Latinae? 

Haud aliter nostri praemissa in principis ortum 
Ludicra Chauceri, classisque incompta sequentum; 
Nascenti apta parum divina haec machina regno, 
In nostrum servanda fuit tantirque decebat 
Praelusisse Deos aevi certamina famae; 
Nee geminos vates, nee te Shakspeare silebo, 
Aut quicquid sacri nostros conjecit in annos 
Consilium fati : per seros ite nepotes 
Illustres animae, demissaque nomina semper 
Candidior fama excipiat; sed parcite divi. 
Si majora vocant, si pagina sanctior urget. 
Est vobis decor, et nativae gratia Musae, 
Quae trahit atque tenet, qua? me modo laeta remittit, 
Excitum modo in alta rapit, versatque legentem. 

Sed quam te memorem vatum Deus: O nova gentis 
Gloria et ignoto turgescens musa cothurno! 
Quam solidat vires, quam pingui robore surgens 
Invaditque hauritque animam: haud temerarius ille 
Qui mos est reliquis, probat ob\ia, magnaque fundit 
Felici tantum genio; sed destinat ictum, 
Sed vafer et sapiens cunctator praevia sternit, 
Furtivoque gradu subvectus in ardua, tandem 
Dimittit pleno correptos fulmine sensus. 



TO BEN JONSON 249 

Hue, precor, accedat quisquis primo igne calentem 
Ad numeros sua musa vocat, nondumque subacti 
Ingenii novitate tumens in carmina fertur 
Non normae legisve memor; quis ferre soluti 
Naufragium ingenii potent, mentisque ruinam? 
Quanto pulchrior hie niediis qui regnat in undis, 
Turbine correptus nullo: eui spiritus ingens 
Non artem vineit: medio sed verus in oestro, 
Princeps insano pugnantem numine musam 
Edomat, et cudit suspenso metra furore. 

In rabiem Catilina tuam con versus et artes 
Qualia molitur; quali bacchatur hiatu? 
En mugitum oris, con jurat ccque Camoenae, 
Divinas furias et non imitabile fuhnen! 
O verum Ciceronis opus, linguseque disertae 
Elogium spirans! O vox aeterna Catonis, 
Caesaream reserans fraudem, retrahensque sequaces 
Patricios in caedem, et funera certa reorum! 
Quis fando expediat primae solennia pompae, 
Et circumfusi studium plaususque theatri? 
Non tu divini Cicero dux inclyte facti, 
Romave majores vidit servata triumphos. 

Celsior incedis nostro, Sejane, cothurno 
Quam te Romani, quam te tua fata ferebant: 
Hinc magis insigni casu, celebrique ruina 
Volveris, et gravius terrent exempla theatri. 

At tu stas nunquam ruituro in culmine vates, 
Despieiens auras, et fallax numen amici, 
Tutus honore tuo, genitacque volumine famae. 
A Capreis verbosa et grandis epistola frustra 
Venerat, offenso major fruerere Tonante, 
Si sic crevisses, si sic, Sejane, stetisses. 
O fortunatum, qui te, Jonsone, sequutus 
Contexit sua fila, suique est nominis author. / 

[Jotisonus Virhius, 1638.] 



250 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Robert Waring, 1638. 

Vatum Principi Ben. Jonsono Sacrum. 

Poetarum Maxime! 
Sive tu mortem, sive ecstasin passus, 
Jaces verendum et plus quam hominis funus. 
Sic post receptam sacri furoris gloriam, 
Cum exhaustum jam numen decoxit emerita vates 
Jugique fluxu non reditura se prodegit anima, 
Jacuit Sibyllae cadaver, 
Vel trepidis adhuc cultoribus consulendum. 
Nulli se longius indulsit Deus, nulli aegrius valedixit; 
Pares testatus flammas, 
Dum exul, ac dum incola. 
Annorumque jam ingruente vespere, 
Pectus tuum, tanquam poeseos horizonta, 

Non sine rubore suo reliquit: 
Vatibus nonnullis ingentia prodere; nee scire datur: 
Magnum aliis mysterium, majus sibi, 
Ferarum ritu vaticinantium 

Inclusum jactant numen quod nesciunt, 

Et instinctu sapiunt non intellecto. 
Quibus dum ingenium facit audacia, prodest ignorare. 
Tibi primo contigit furore frui proprio, 
Et numen regere tuum. 
Dum pari lucta afflatibus indicium commisisti. 
Bis entheatus: 
Aliasque musis mutas addidisti, artes et scientias, 
Tui plenus poeta. 
Qui furorem insaniae eximens 
Docuisti, et sobrie Aonios latices hauriri. 
Primus omnium. 
Qui effrsenem caloris luxuriem frugi consilio castigaveris, 
Ut tandem ingenium sine venia placiturum 
Possideret Britannia, 
Miraretur orbis, 
Nihilque inveniret scriptis tuis donandum, praeter famam. 
Quod prologi igitur 



TO BEN JONSON 251 

Velut magnatum propylaea domini titulos proferunt, 
Perpetuumque celebratur argumentum, ipse author, 
Non arrogantis hoc est, sed judicantis, 
Aut vaticinantis, 
Virtutis enim illud et vatis est, sibi placere. 
Proinde non invidia tantum nostra, sed laude tua 
Magnum te prodire jusserunt fata. 
Qui integrum nobis poetam solus exhibuisti, 
Unusque omnes exprimens. 
Cum frondes alii laureas decerpunt, tu totum nemus vindicas, 
Nee adulator laudas, nee invidus perstringis 
Utrumque exosus, 
Vel sacrificio tuo mella, vel medicinse acetum immiscere. 
Nee intenso nimis spiritu avenam dirupisti. 
Nee exili nimis tubam emaculasti ; 
Servatis utrinque legibus, lex ipse factus. 
Una obsequii religione imperium nactus es: 
Rerum servus, non temporum. 
Ita omnium musarum amasius. 
Omnibus perpetuum certamen astas. 
Sit Homeri gloria 
Urbes de se certantes habere, de te disputant musae, 
Qui seu cothurno niteris, inter poetas tonans pater, 
Sive soccum pede comples rotundo, 
Et epigrammata dictas agenda, 
Facetiasque manibus exprimendas, 
Adoranda posteris ducis vestigia, et nobis unus es theatrum 
metari. 
Non arenae spectacula scena exhibuit tua. 

Nee poemata, sed poesin ipsam parturiit, 
Populoque mentes, et leges ministravit, 
Quibus te damnare possent, si tu poteras peccare. 
Sic et oculos spectanti praestas, et spectacula; 
Scenamque condis quae legi magis gestiat quam spectari. 
Non histrioni suum delitura ingenium. 

Alii, queis nullus Apollo, sed Mercurius numen, 
Quibus afflatus praestant vinum et amasia. 



252 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Truduntque in scenam vitia, morbo poetae. 
Quibus musa pagis primisque plaustris apta, 
Prsemoriturum vati carmen, 
Non edunt, sed abortiunt; 
Cui ipsum etiam praelum conditorium est, 
Novaque lucinse fraude in tenebras emittuntur authores, 
Dum poemata sic ut diaria, 
Suo tantum anno et regioni effingunt, 

Sic quoque Plauti moderni sales, 
■ Ipsi tantum Plauto avyxpovoi: 
Et vernaculse nimium Aristophanis facetiae 
Non extra suum theatrum plausus invenerunt: 
Tu interim 
Saeculi spiras quoque post futuri genium. 
Idemque tuum et orbis theatrum est. 
Dum immensum, cumque lectore crescens carmen, 
Et perenne uno fundis poema verbo, 
Tuas tibi gratulamur foelices moras! 
Quanquam quid moras reprehendimus, quas nostri fecit reve- 
rentia? 
^-Eternum scribi debuit quicquid aeternum legi. 

Poteras tu solus 
Stylo sceptris majore orbem moderari. 
Romae Britannos subjugavit gladius, 

Romam Britannis calamus tuus, 
Quam sic vinci gestientem, 
Cothurno Angliaco sublimiorem quam suis collibus cernimus. 
Demum quod majus est, aetatem nobis nostram subjicis; 
Oraculique vicarius, 
Quod jussit Deus, fides praestat sacerdos, 
Homines seipsos noscere instituens. 

Lingua nostra 
Tibi collectanea tecum crevit, 
Vocesque patrias, et tuas simul formasti. 
Nee indigenam amplius, sed Jonsoni jactamus facundiam, 
Ut inde semper tibi contingat tua lingua celebrari ; 
Qui et Romam 
Disertiores docuisti voces. 



TO BEN JONSON 253 

Mancipiali denuo iocomate superbientem, 
Graeciamque etiam 
Orbis magistram excoluisti, 
Nunc ali^ qiiam Attica Minerva eloquentem. 
Te solo dives poteras aliorum ingenia contemnere, 
Et vel sine illis evasisses ingenii compendium : 
Sed ut ille pictor, 
Mundo daturus par ideae exemplar, 
Quas hinc et inde pulchritudines 
Sparserat natura, 
Collegit artifex: 
Formaeque rivulos palantes in unum cogens oceanum, 
Inde exire jussit alteram sine naevo Venerem. 
Ita tibi parem machinam molito, 
In hoc etiam ut pictura erat poesis: 
Alii inde authores materies ingenio tuo accedunt, 
Tu illis ars, et lima adderis. 
Et si poetae audient illi, tu ipsa poesis; 
Authorum non alius calamus, sed author. 
Scriptores diu solHcitos teipso tandem docens, 
Quem debeat genium habere victurus liber. 
Qui praecesserunt, quotquot erant, viarum tantum judices fue- 
runt: 
Tu solum Columna. 
Quae prodest aliis virtus, obstat domino; 
Et qui caeteros emendatius transcripseras 

Ipse transcribi nescis. 
Par prioribus congressus, futuris impar 
Scenae Perpetuus Dictator. 
[Jonsonus Virbiiis, 1638.] 

William Bew, 1638. 

Epitaphium in Ben. Jonson. 
Adsta, hospes! pretium morae est, sub isto 
Quid sit, discere, conditum sepulchro. 
Socci deliciae; decus cothurni; 
Scenae pompa; cor et caput theatri; 



254 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Linguarum sacer helluo; perennis 
Defluxus venerum; scatebra salsi 
Currens lene joci, sed innocentis; 
Artis perspicuum jubar; coruscum 
Sydus; judicii piimex, profundus 
Doctrinae puteus, tamen serenus; 
Scriptorum genius; poeticus dux, 
Quantum O sub rigido latet lapillo! 
\Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Samuel Evans, 1638. 

In Obi turn Ben. J on son. 
Nee sic excidimus: pars tantum vilior audit 
Imperium Libitina tuum, caelestior urget 
yEthereos tractus, mediasque supervolat auras, 
Et velut effusum spissa inter nubila lumen 
Ingenii strictura micat: foelicior ille, 
Quisquis ab hoc victuram actavit lampada Phoebo, 
In famulante faces accendimus, idque severse, 
Quod damns alterius vitae, concedimus umbrae. 
Sic caput Ismarii, caesa cervice, Poetae, 
Nescio quid rapido vocale immurmurat Hebro, 
Memnonis adverso sic stridit chordula Phoebo, 
Datque modos magicos, tenuesque reciprocat auras. 
Sen tu grandiloqui torques vaga froena theatri, 
En tibi vox geminis applaudit publica palmis; 
Sen juvat in numeros, palantes cogere voces 
Maeonia Jonsone cheli, te pronus amantum 
Prosequitur coetus, studioso imitamine vatum. 
Benjamini insignis quondam quintuplice ditis 
Sufifitu mensae, densaque paropside, sed tu 
Millena plus parte alios excedis, et auctis 
Accumulas dapibus, propria de dote, placentam. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 



TO BEN JONSON 255 

Ralph Bridecake, 1638. 

In Ben. Jonson. 
Quod martes Epico tonat cothurno, 
Sive aptat Elegis leves amores, 
Seu sales Epigrammatum jocosos 
Promit, seu numerosiora plectro 
Jungit verba, sibi secundat orsa 
Cyrrhseus, nee Hyantiffi sorores 
UUi dexterius favent poetae, 
Hoc cum Maeonide sibi et Marone, 
Et cum Callimacho, et simul TibuUo 
Commune est, aliisque cum trecentis: 
Sed quod Anglia quotquot eruditos 
Faecundo ediderit sinu poetas 
Acceptos referat sibi, sua omnes 
Hos industria finxerit, labosque 
Jonsoni, hoc proprium est suumque totum, 
Qui Poemata fecit et Poetas. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

Anonymous, 1638. 

Icoj^crcof/w TTore (f)VVTL irapecTTr] iroTVia Moucra, 

Kat Bpo/xtos, /cat Epcos, kcll XapLTcov diaaos, 
Eutos apTiTOKov XajSe pe^pcBi, airaip^e re Kiacrq), 

Aovaas /cat iroTiaas veKrap tu> ^orpvos. 
Kvaaav 5t' at Xaptres, /cat aet^aXeecrcrt pobolaiv 

F,aTe<pov, ry5' iepols |3a/cxapt5os TreraXots. 
Kecrot" tvtBos fpcos, av\r]aas p.r]Tepa dcoKev, 

^Ayvov deK^LPOw (J>lKtpov aot5o7roXco' 
Tots 5' ext Mcocra cro^oj xp id v pier p. an xat5' epvrjae, 

Xpucretas xrcpi;7as \lkvov VTrepaxop-evq' 
Xatpe decjv Kr]pv^, yairjs /xeya X'^PI^o- ^p^ravvqs. 

Xalp' eX-TTts TlKTivicv tmv ert yvpLVoiroSoiv' 
Ats (TV xopvyr]^^^ f^"^' eM/3ci5cos, etre Kodopvovs, 

^EXXaSa /cat ^V<jip.ir]v es 4>dovov OLarpeXaaeLs' 
Tavpioo}v dptyKol<7L veo8p.r]TOLO Qearpov, 

Kept' anuypajXivov pappapeihv rpaXiScov. 



256 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

H' /cat aTLTTTafxevr], /3pe0eos iraKaiJ.riaLv evriKe 
ITKlvOov, apeLOTeprjs avfxjSoXov oiKodofxrjs. 
[Jonsonus Virbius, 1638.] 

George Daniel, 1638. 

To the Memorie of the Best Dramaticke English Poet, Ben: lonson: 

1638. 
Great Flame of English Poets gon ! how shall 
Wee strew our flowers at thy Funerall? 
What obsequies performe! what rites prepare 
Unto thy Herse? What Monument but were 
Too narrow to Containe Thee! or what State 
But were beneath the honour of thy fate? 
Noe, rather, wee (remaining of the Tribe, 
Sad Orphans) can but wish what wee escribe 
Unto thy Merit. All wee bring to thee, 
Is but our Tears, our filial Pietie. 

Great Lord of Arts, and Father of the Age! 
The first and best Informer of the Stage! 
How shall wee speake of him? what Numbers bring 
T'empassionate, and worthy Orgies Sing? 
What Shall we Say? Shall wee in a lust Zeale, 
Rebuke the Age of Ignorance, and tell 
Aloud his Merits? Shall wee weepe, or boast 
His worth? or Losse? Shall wee say, when wee lost 
Him, a sad Night of foUie did orespread 
This Island, as wee see, and wee are dead, 
Rather then Hee wee weep for? For Hee still 
Lives to instruct the Age with a Strong Quill. 
And as he did from Ignorance reduce 
Th' abused Stage, Soe has he left to us, 
(Who act upon this greater Theatre) 
Grave morall Pandects, Strong, & yet soe Cleare 
Hee is his owne Expositor; and wee 
(If sottishly not blind or worse), may see 
Vertue in Act; and everie gracefull Step 
She treads may be our Path ; but wee all Sleepe, 



TO BEN JONSON 257 

Uncapable of what Hee taught; or how 

To valew what Hee left us. I could bow 

(And would the Age might doo't without offence) 

To name him, with a Modest Reverence. 

For Shall wee kneele to Titles? and observe 

fformalities to those, who nought deserve? 

(More then their Name or painted outside give) 

And shall My Lord have a prerogative 

ffor vertue, in his Ancestors? (though hee 

Perhaps the Shame of all his Pedigree ;) 

And our Great Lord of witt, where vertue in 

Her Sphere did move; where Art and ludgment Shine, 

(Inseparable) bee with Common Men, 

And vulgar Mention named? oh! the Pen 

Of Witt and Truth forbid it! Rather let 

The worthies present Age his Name forget. 

For wee are Emulous fooles, and will ad mitt 

Noe Rivalls in the Claime wee lay to witt. 

But After-Ages (more Judicious, 
Unswaied by Passion, only Sedulous 
To honour vertue,) shall, (I will not Doubt) 
Advance his Name; when the despised Rout 
(His Scorne) shall perish, in the filthy Smoake 
Of their owne Follies. Then, all Eyes shall looke 
With loy and Admiration, to receive 
A Light their Fathers could not. I will leave 
Only this little: Judgement shall Allow, 
(When Men have Eyes to see & witt to know 
Who merit most) the greatest Eulogie, 
For Language, Art, and all Dexteritie 
Of Witt, to Him: and happ'lie were the flame 
Extinct, wee might recover't in his Name. 
A Charme soe stronge. Who ever shall reherse 
Ben: lonson, cannot chuse but make a verse. 

[The Poems of George Daniel, ed. from the original MSS., by A. B. 
Grosart, 1878, i, 63-65.] 



258 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

George Daniel, about 1638. 

Upon Be7i lonson's Booke. 
Bee not Deceiv'd (Dull world) Hee is not Dead; 
Rumor is false; open His Booke, and read. 
It is Himselfe; there, Everie Scene affords 
Words above Action ; Matter beyond Words. 
If, Readers, what I say, will not suffice 
T'evince your follies, I dare bid you twice 
What yet you have not Done; open and Read; 
Recant, or else 'tis You, not Hee, that's Dead. 
[The Poems of George Daniel, edited by A. B. Grosart, 1878, i, 66.] 

G. W., 1638. 

Immortal Ben is dead; and as that ball 
On Ida toss'd, so is his crown by all 
The Infantry of wit. 

[V'erses prefixed to Thomas Randolph's Poems ivith the Muses Looking- 
Glass, 1638; in Poetical and Dramatic Works of Thomas Randolph, 
ed. W. C. Hazlitt, 1875, p. 507.] 

W. Markham, 1638. 

. . . My worthy Friend, this Play o' th' publick stage 

Hath gain'd such fair applause, as't did engage 

A nation to thy Muse; where thou shalt reign 

s^ Vicegerent to Apollo, who doth deign. 

His darling Ben deceased, thou should'st be 

Declar'd the heir apparent to his tree. 

[From verses prefixed to James Shirley's Royal Master, 1638; Shirley's 
Works, ed. A. Dyce, 1833, i, Ixxxvi.] 

Richard Brome, 1638. 

To my Lord of Neivcastle, on his Play called The Variety. He 
having commanded me to give him my true opinion of it. 
My Lord, 

I could not think these seven yeares, but that I 
In part a poet was, and so might lie. 
By the Poetick Licence. But I finde 
Now I am none, and strictly am confin'd 



TO BEN JONSON 259 

To truth, if therefore I subpcena'd were 
Before the Court of Chancerie to swear. 
Or if from thence I should be higher sent, 
And on my life unto a Parliament 
Of wit and judgement, there to certifie 
What I could say of your VARIETY: 
I would depose each Scene appear'd to me 
An Act of wit, each Act a Comedy, 
And all was such, to all that understood. 
As knowing Johnson, swore By God 'twas good. 
[The Weeding of the Covent-Garden, 1658, sig. A4.] 

Richard Brome, 1638. 

But it is Known (peace to their Memories) 
The Poets late sublimed from our Age, 

Who best could understand, and best devise 
Workes, that must ever live upon the Stage 

Did well approve, and lead this humble way, 
Which we are bound to travaile in to night;. 

And, though it be not trac'd so well, as they 
Discover'd it by true Phoebean light 
Pardon our just Ambition, yet, that strive 
To keep the weakest Branch o' th' Stage alive. 

[From the Prologue to The Antipodes, acted 1638, printed 1640. The" 
allusion to "The Poets late sublimed from our Age" surely points, 
to Jonson, and possibly to Shakespeare.] 

Actors' Bill for Plays at Court, 1638. 

[Plays acted] before the king & queene this [present] yeare of our 

lord i6j8. 

At the Cocpit the 26^^ of march The lost ladie 

At the Cocpit the 27*'^ of march Damboyes; 

At the Cocpit the 3*^ of Aprill Aglaura 

At the Cocpit the 8"' of november The fox. 

[From a bill for Court performances presented by the King's Men. 
The manuscript is slightly defective at the top, and words have 
been supplied, in brackets, from a similar bill presented by the 
King's Men in 1637. See The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Her- 
bert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 76.] 



26o AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir Aston Cokaine, 1638-39. 
... If y'are come to-day 
In expectation of a faultless play, 
Writ by learn 'd Jonson, or some able pen 
Fam'd and approv'd of by the world, you then 
We disappoint. Our poet had never yet 
Hisses condemn, or hands commend his wit. 
[Prologue to The Obstinate Lady, acted 1638-39, printed 1657.] 

Thomas Bancroft, 1639. 

To Ben Joytson. 
As Martial's Muse by Caesar's ripening rays 
Was sometimes cherished, so thy happier days 
Joy'd in the sunshine of thy royal JAMES, 
Whose crown shed lustre on thy Epigrams: 
But I, remote from favour's fostering heat, 
O'er snowy hills my Muses' passage beat. 
Where weeping rocks my harder fates lament. 
And shuddering woods whisper my discontent. 
What wonder then my numbers, that have rolled 
Like streams of Tigris, run so slow and cold! 

To the Same. 
Let Ignorance with Envy chat. 
In spite of both, thou fame shalt win; 
Whose mass of learning seems like that, 
Which Joseph gave to Benjamin. 

[Tivo Books of Epigrams, 1639.] 

Robert Davenport, 1639. 
A Jive. . . . I'me like the man that could endure no noise 
In th' Silent Woman, answer all in signs. 

[A New Trick to Cheat the Divell, 1638, \", iii.] 

John Taylor, 1639. 
At a place called Priors Thorns . . . there dwelt a man named 
Frier, who was rich in substance, but very poore and miserable 



TO bp:n jonson 261 

in his conditions: belike hee had read or heard of a Play that was 
written 40 years since by Master Benjamin Johnson, the Play 
is extant, and is called Every Man out of his Humour, in which 
Play was acted and personated a mizerly Farmer, that had much 
corne in his Barnes, and did expect a scant or barren Harvest, 
that through want and scarcity hee might sell his corne at what 
deare rates hee pleased, but (contrary to his wicked hopes) the 
Harvest proved abundantly plentifull, wherefore hee being in an 
extraordinary merry or mad veine, put himselfe to the charge of 
the buying of a two penny halter, and went into his Barn as 
secretly as he could, and putting the halter about his neck with 
a riding knot, he fastened the other end to a beam, and most 
neatly hang'd himself: But (as ill luck would have it) his man 
presently came into the Barne, and espyde his Master so bravely 
mounted, the unlucky knave drew his Knife and cut the halter, 
crying out for help as lowde as he could, rubbing and chafing his 
Master with all care and diligence to recover him to life again; 
at the last he awak'd out of his traunce and fetch 'd a deep groan, 
began to stare and look about him; and taking the end of the 
cut halter in his hand, his first words to his man was Sirrah, who 
did cut this? O Master (said the fellow) it was I that did it, 
and I thank God that I came in good time to doe it, and I pray 
you to take God in your minde, and never more to hazard your 
soule and body in such a wicked manner: to which good counsell 
of the poor fellow, the Caitiffe replyde, Sirrah, If you would be 
medling (like a sawcy busie rogue) you might have untyde it, 
that it might have serv'd another time; such an unthrifty rascall 
as thou will never be worth such a halter, it cost me two pence, 
and I will abate the price of it in thy quarters wages. And when 
the quarter day came, hee did abate the said two pence, for the 
which the fellow would dwell no longer with him, but went and 
got him another service: This was acted really and lately at the 
place aforesaid, in imitation of that part in the Play, of Every 
Man out of his Humour. 

[Part of this Summers Travels, 1639; in the Spenser Society's reprint, 
1870, p. 20.] 



262 AN ALLUSIOiN-BOOK 

James Shirley, 1637-40. 

A Prologue to The Alchemist. 
The Alchemist, a play for strength of wit, 
And true art, made to shame what hath been writ 
In former ages ; I except no worth 
Of what or Greek or Latins have brought forth; 
Is now to be presented to your ear. 
For which I wish each man were a Muse here. 
To know, and in his soul be fit to be 
Judge of this masterpiece of comedy; 
That when we hear but once of Jonson's name. 
Whose mention shall make proud the breath of fame, 
We may agree, and crowns of laurel bring 
A justice unto him the poets' king. 
■ But he is dead: time, envious of that bliss 
Which we possess'd in that great brain of his, 
By putting out this light, hath darken'd all 
The sphere of poesy, and we let fall, 
At best, unworthy elegies on his hearse, 
A tribute that we owe his living verse; 
Which though some men, that never reach'd him may 
Decry, that love all folly in a play, 
The wiser few shall this distinction have, 
To kneel, not tread, upon his honour'd grave. 

[From Shirley's Poems, 1646, under the heading "Prologues and Epi- 
logues Written to several Plays presented in this Kingdom, and 
elsewhere"; reprinted in Dyce's ed., 1833, vi, 490. The prologue 
was designed for The Alchemist as performed in Ireland.] 

Anonymous, before 1640. 

His Mistris Shade. 
. . . Then stately Virgil, witty Ovid by, 
Whom faire Corinna stands, and doth comply 
With Ivory wrists, his Laureat head, and steepes. 
His eyes in dew of kisses while he sleepes. 
Then soft Catullus, sharpe fang'd Martiall, 
And towring Lucan, Horace, luvinall; 



TO BEN JONSON 263 

And snakie Perseus; these and those whom rage, 

(Dropt from the larre of heaven) fill'd to enrage 

All times unto their frensies, thou shalt there 

Behold them in an Amphitheater. 

Amongst which Synod crown'd with sacred bayes, 

And flattering joy weele have to recite their playes. 

Shakespeare and Beamond, Swannes to whom the Spheares 

Listen, while they call backe the former yeares 

To teach the truth of Scenes, and more for thee, 

There yet remaines brave soule than thou canst see 

By glimmering of a fancie: doe but come. 

And there He shew thee that illustrous roome. 

In which thy father Johnson shall be plac'd, 

As in a Globe of radiant fire, and grac'd. 

To be of that high Hyrarchy, where none 

But brave soules take illumination: 

Immediately from heaven. . . . 

[In Poems: Written by Wil. Shakespeare, 1640, "An Addition of some 
Excellent Poems ... by other Gentlemen," sig. Le.] 

The Stationers' Registers, 1640. 

John Benson 

20°. Februarij. 1639 [i.e. 1640]. 

Entred for his Copie under the hands of doctor VVykes 
and Master Bourne warden a booke called The Masque 
of the Gypsies by Beniamin: Johnson vj^ 

Master Crooke 

and 
Richard: Seirger 

20°. Martij 

Entred for their Copie under the hands of doctor Wykes 
and master ffetherston warden four Masques m*. . .vj*^ 

The Masque of Augur es. 

Tyme vindicated 

Neptunes triumphes. and 

Panns Anniversary or the sheapards 

holy day. 

with sundry Elegies and other Poems by Beniamin: Johnson. 
[Arber's Transcript, iv, 500, 503.] 



264 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Title-pages, 1640. 

The Workes of Benjamin Jonson . . . London. Printed by 
Richard Bishop, and are to be sold by Andrew Crooke . . . 1640. 
[Folio, with the engraved portrait by Robert Vaugh, and verses 
by Abraham Holland, facing the elaborately engraved title-page 
by Hole. — Both the portrait and the engraved title-page are the 
same as in the 1616 folio, and the volume is a second edition of 
that work.] 

The Workes of Beniamin Johnson. The second volume. 
Containing these Playes, Viz. i Bartholomew Fayre. 2 The 
Staple of Newes, 3 The Divell is an Asse. . . . London : Printed 
for Richard Meighen, 1640. [Folio. There was also another 
issue; see W. W. Greg, Hand-List of English Plays, p. 56.] 

Q. Horatius Flaccus: His Art of Poetry. Englished by Ben: 
lonson. With other Workes of the Author, never Printed before. 
. . . London. Printed by J. Okes for J. Benson. 1640. [i2mo, 
with an engraved title, by W. M., containing bust of the poet 
crowned with laurel.] 

Ben : lonson 's Execration against Vulcan With divers Epigrams 
by the same Author to severall Noble Personages in this King- 
dom. Never Published before. London: Printed by J. O. for 
John Benson . . . 1640. [With the portrait by Robert Vaughan 
and verses by Abraham Holland, as in the folios of 16 16 and 
1640.] 

William Hodgson, 1640. 

On the Author of this Volume, the Poet Laureat, Ben Jonson. 

Here is a poet! whose unmuddled strains 
Shew that he held all Helicon in's brains. 
What here is writ, is sterling; every line 
Was well allowed of by the Muses nine. 
When for the stage a drama he did lay, 
Tragic or comic, he still bore away 
The sock and buskin; clearer notes than his 
No swan e'er sung upon our Thamesis; 



TO BEN JONSON 265 

For lyric sweetness in an ode, or sonnet, • 

To Ben the best of wits might veil their bonnet. 

His genius justly, in an enthreat rage, 

Oft lashed the dull-sworn factors for the stage: 

For Alchymy, though't make a glorious gloss, 

Compared with Gold is bullion and base dross. 

On his elaborated Art-contrived Playes. An Epigram. 
Each like an Indian ship or hull appears. 
That took a voyage for some certain years, 
To plough the sea, and furrow up the main. 
And brought rich ingots from his loaded brain. 
His art the sun; his labours were the lines; 
His solid stuff the treasure of his mines. 

[Prefixed to TJw Workes of Benjamin Jonson, 1640.] 

Edward Herbert, Lord of Cherbury, 1640. 

To his Friend Ben Johnson, of his Horace made English. 
It is not enough Ben Johnson to be thought 
Of English Poets best, but to have brought 
In greater state to their acquaintance one 
So equal to himself and thee, that none 
Might be thy second, while thy Glory is 
To be the Horace of our times and his. 
[Prefixed to Jonson 's Q. Horatius Flaccus: His Art of Poetry, 1640.] 

Barton Holyday, 1640. 

To Ben Jonson. 

'Tis dangerous to praise; besides the task 

Which to do 't well, will ask 
An age of time and judgment; who can then 

Be praised, and by what pen? 
Yet, I know both, whilst thee I safely chuse 

My subject and my Muse. 
For sure, henceforth our poets shall implore 

Thy aid, which lends them more, 
Than can their tired Apollo, or the Nine 

She wits, or mighty wine. 



266 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The deitiies are bankrupts, and must be 

Glad to beg art of thee. 
Some they might once perchance on thee bestow: 

But now to thee they owe: 
Who dost in daily bounty more wit spend, 

Than they could ever lend. 
Thus thou didst build the Globe, which, but for thee, 

Should want its axle-tree; 
And, like a careful founder, thou dost now 

Leave rules for ever, how 
To keep't in reparations, which will do 

More good than to build two. 
It was an able stock thou gav'st before; 

Yet, lo, a richer store! 
Which doth, by a prevention, make us quit 

With a dear year of wit: 
Come when it will, by this thy name shall last 

Until Fame's utmost blast, . . . 

[Prefixed to Jonson's Q. Horatius Flaccus: His Art of Poetry, 1640. 

Zouch Townley, 1640. 
Ben, 

The world is much in debt, and though it may 

Some petty reck'nings to small poets pay: 

Pardon if at thy glorious sum they stick. 

Being too large for their arithmetic. 

If they could prize the genius of a scene, 

The learned sweat that makes a language clean, 

Or understand the faith of ancient skill. 

Drawn from the tragic, comic, lyric quill; 

The Greek and Roman denizened by thee, 

And both made richer in their poetry; 

This they may know, and knowing this still grudge, 

That yet they are not fit of thee to judge. 

I prophesy more strength to after time. 

Whose joy shall call this isle the poets' clime, 

Because 'twas thine, and unto thee return 

The borrowed flames with which thy Muse shall burn. 



TO BEN JONSON 267 

Then when the stock of other's fame is spent, 
Thy poetry shall keep its own old rent. 
[Prefixed to Jonson's Q. Horatitis Flaccus: His Art of Poetry, 1640.] 

C. G., 1640. 

To censuring Criticks, on the approved Comedy, The Antipodes. 

lonson's alive! the World admiring stands, 
And to declare his welcome there, shake hands; 
Apollo's Pensioners may wipe their eyes. 
And stifle their abortive Elegies: 
Taylor his Goose-quill may abjure againe, 
And to make Paper deare, scribbling refraine; 
For sure there's cause of neither. lonson's ghost 
Is not a Tenant i' the Elizian Coast: 
But next with too much scorne, at your dispraise, 
Silently stole unto a grove of Bayes; 
Therefore bewaile your errours, and entreat 
He will returne, unto the former seat, 
When he was often pleas'd to feed your eare 
With the choice dainties of his Theatre; 
But / much feare, he'l not be easily wonne 
To leave his Bower, where griefe and he alone 
Do spend their time, to see how vainly wee 
Accept old toyes for a new Comedie. 
Therefore repaire to him, and praise each line 
Of his Vidpone, Sejanus, Cateline. 
But stay, and let me tell you where he is; 
He sojournes in his Bronte's Antipodes. 
[Prefixed to Richard Brome's The Antipodes, 1640.] 

C. G., 1640. 

I doe not wonder that great Johnsons Play 
W^as scorn'd so by the ignorant, that day 
It did appeare in its most glorious shine; 
And comely action grac'd each learned line. 
There was some reason for it: 'twas above 
Their reach, their envy; their applause or love: 



268 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

When as the wiser few did it admire, 

And warm'd their fancies at his genuine fire. 

[Prefixed to Thomas Nabbes' The Unfortunate Mother, 1640.] 

Richard Doddridge, 1640. 

Thus (Friend) the bayes still flourish; Johnson dead, 

Randolph deceas'd, they fall to crowne thy head; 

Yet see, how full his flowing fancie meetes 

With thy rich Genius! and sweetly greets 

Thy first-borne infant, making almost one 

A jealous, and a Fatall Union: 

Thine is a full, stuff't, fluent wit, that speakes 

Meerly it's owne; not like the running leakes 

Of a crack't crazy braine, that dribbles forth 

Either but little, or what's little worth; 

His straines lift high too, thine mount; all confesse 

Both tyre expression with a curious dresse, 

And tricke it up so neatly, 't doth surpasse; 

The Muses sure lent both a looking-glasse; 

The difference (if any) this may be, 

Chame brought him up, but Isis foster'd thee. 

'Twixt thee and him (Great Ben!) a parallel 
Would chance strike credit deafe, make envie swell, 
Swell then who list, and burst; since deads thy heire, 
He's to thy wit the sole Executer: {T. Randolph.) 
The legacies being paid, all he assayes, 
S'no more than what he well deserves, thy bayes: 
His Muse but yet new borne hath felt thy fate; 
And like thine glories in the rabbles hate; 
As soone as shee had life, she was wish't dead, 
Or under her owne a5^e5 buried; 

But now a glorious Phcenix rais'd is shee 

From this and her supposed Tragedie. 

[Prefixed to Samuel Harding's Sicily and Naples, or The Fatall Union, 
1640.] 



TO BEN JONSON 269 

Nicholas Downey, 1640. 

Ben is deceas'd, and yet I dare avow, 
{WitJwiit that booke) Ben's redivivus now, 
I could beleeve a Metempsycosis, 
And that thy soule were not thine owne, but his 
Or else the Genius which did wait upon 
His worthy quill serves thee, now he is gone; 
But I observe this difference, thy braine 
Vents fancies with a pleasure, his with paine; 
His were mature indeed, they went full time 
Before they were delivered into rime; 
Thine were conceived, brought forth at once, yet may 
As they are faire, be as long-liv'd as they; 
Who reads thy play-worke (Friend) needs not compell. 
Or force thy lines to make them parallel 
With his, unlesse 'cause thou contract'st in one 
Small part, what he in a whole play has done. 

His humorists in thy Alphonso ly: 
Sejanus, Catiline's damn'd treachery 
Lives in Ursini's treasons, there is not 
Ben's Fox can scape the policy o' th plot. 
[Prefixed to Samuel Harding's Sicily and Naples, 1640.] 

S. Hall, 1640. 

Things hid in wide-sleeve gownes, all you can see 
Of Artists in them is, they'r come t' A. B. 
Men that thy play, as some new lesson con, 
And hacke, and mangle thy blest Union; 
Poore fooles! I pitty them; how would they looke, 
If at the barre Ben Johnson were their booke? 
His Fox would on these geese revenge thee so. 
We should no hissing but i'th Common know; 
Nor neede they other halter, Catiline 
Affords them rope enough, in each strong line: . . . 
[From verses prefixed to Samuel Harding's Sicily and Naples, 1640.] 



2/0 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir John Suckling, 1640. 

Hast thou seen the down i' th' air, 

when wanton blasts have tost it; 
Or the ship on the sea, 

when ruder waves have crost it? 
Hast thou mark'd the crocodile's weeping, 

or the fox's sleeping? 
Or hast view'd the peacock in his pride, 

or the dove by his bride, 

when he courts for his lechery? 

O, so fickle, O, so vain, O, so false, so false is she! . . . 

[This "Song to a Lute," from Suckling's The Sad One, IV, iii, is imitated 
from the song in Jonson's The Devil is an Ass, II, ii.] 

Richard West, 1640. 

As twere the only office of a Friend 
To Rhyme, and 'gainst his Conscience to commend; 
And sweare like Poets of the Post, This Play 
Exceeds all Johnson's Works. 

[From commendatory verses prefixed to James Ferrand's EPJ2T0- 
MANIA, 1640.] 

George Lynn, 1640. 

For, when th' inticing pleasure of thy Line 

And teeming Fancies unexhausted Myne 

I view, me thinks the Genius of those Three 

Admired Laureats are ensphear'd in Thee, 

Smooth Shakespeare, neat Randolph, and wittie Ben, 

Flow in a mutuall sweetnesse from Thy Pen. 

[From commendatory verses prefixed to John Tatham's The Fancies 
Theater, 1640.] 

W. Ling, 1640. 

Had I Chapmans Line or Learning, Johnsons Art, 

Fletchers more accurate Fancie, or that part 

Of Beaumont that's divine. Dun's profound skill, 

Making good Verses live, and damning ill: 

I then would prayse thy Verses, which sho'd last 

Whilst Time ha's sands to run, or Fame a blast. 

[Commendatory verses prefixed to John Tatham's The Fancies Theater, 
1640.] 



TO BEN JONSON 27 1 

Anonymous, 1640. 

To Mr. Benjamin Johnson. 
Had Rome but heard her worthies speak so high, 
As thou hast taught them in thy Poesie; 
She would have sent her poets to obtain, 
(Tutor'd by thee) thy most majestique strain. 
[Wits Recreations, 1640, Epigram 7.] 

Anonymous, 1640. 

B. J. approbation of a copy of verses. 
One of the witty sort of Gentlemen, 
That held society with learned Ben — 
Shew'd him some verses of a tragic sense 
Which did his ear much curious violence; 
But after Ben had been a kind partaker 
Of the sad lines, he needs must know the maker; 
What unjust man he was, that spent his time. 
And banish'd reason to advance his rime: 
Nay gentle Ben, replyes the Gentleman, 
I see I must support the Poet than; 
Although these humble strains are not so fit 
For to please you, hee's held a pretty wit; 
Is he held so? (sayes Ben) so may a Goos, 
Had I the holding, I would let him loos. 
[Wits Recreations, 1640, Epigram 330.] 

Anonymous, 1640. 

To Mr. Ben Johnson, demanding the reason why he calVd his plays 

works. 
Pray tell me Ben, where doth the mystery lurk, 
What others call a play, you call a work. 

Thus answered by a friend in Ben Johnson's defence. 
The Authors friend thus for the Author sayes, 
Bens playes are works, when others works are plays. 

[Wits Recreations, 1640, Epigram 455.] 



272 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1640. 

On Ben Johnson. 
Here lyes Johnson with the rest 
Of the Poets; but the best. 
Reader, wo'dst thou more have known? 
Ask his story, not this stone; 
That will speak what this can't tell 
Of his glory. So farewell. 

Another on Ben: J. 
The Muses fairest light, in no dark time; 
The wonder of a learned Age; the line 
That none can passe; the most proportion'd wit 
To Nature: the best Judge of what was fit: 
The deepest, plainest, highest, clearest pen: 
The voyce most eccho'd by consenting men: 
The soul which answer'd best to all well said 
By others; and which most requitall made: 
Tun'd to the highest key of ancient Rome, 
Returning all her musick with her own. 
In whom with nature, study claim'd a part. 
And yet who to himselfe ow'd all his Art; 
Here lyes Ben: Johnson, every age will look 
With sorrow here, with wonder on his Book. 
[Wits Recreations, 1640, Epitaphs 190, 191.] 

Anonymous, 1640. 

The vertiie of Sack. 
Fetch me Ben Johnsons skull, and fiU't with sack, 
Rich as the same he drank, when the whole pack 
Of jolly sisters pledg'd, and did agree. 
It was no sin to be as drunk as he: 
If there be any weaknesse in the wine. 
There's Virtue in the cup to make 't Divine. 

[Wits Recreations, 1640; Hotten's reprint, p. 425. The poem was 
printed also in Poems on Affairs of State, 1704, iii, 15, as "Written 
in the year 164 1."] 



TO BEN JONSON 273 

Sir John Suckling, 1640. 

Drol[lio]. A Rare Mask no doubt, who contriv'd it? 

Lep[ido]. Marry he that says 'tis good, howsoe'er he has 

made it, Signior MuUicarni. 

Drol. Who, the Poet Laureate 

Lep. The same. 

Drol. O then 'twere Blasphemy to speak against it: 

What, are we full of Cupids? 

Do we sail upon the vast, and resail, 

And fetch the Mask from the Clouds? 

Lep. Away, Critick, thou never understoodst him. 

Drol. Troth I confess it, but my Comfort is. 

Others are troubled with the same Disease, 

'Tis Epidemical, Lepido, take't on my Word, 

And so let's in, and see how Things go forward. 

[The Sad One, Act V, scene i, lines 458-9. The allusions seem to be 
to Ben Jonson and Cynthia's Revels.] 

Nicholas Dixon, 1641. 

Noble kinsemen 1634 . . . 

Ben Jonsons Poems 4° 00-00-06 

Beaumont's poems 4° 00-00-06 . . . 

Shakespeare's poems 8° 00- i-oo . . . 

Received upon this Bill y® 4th of march 1640, for y^ use of 

mr mosely my maister ... I say Received 

Per me Nicholas Dixon. 

[From a MS. in the Record Office, noted in the Catalogue of State 
Papers, Domestic Series, 1640-41. Dixon was a servant for the 
bookseller, Humphrey Mosely, and the bill relates to books 
supplied to a customer.] 

Martin Parker, 1641. 

All Poets (as adition to their fames) 
Have by their Works eternized their names, 
As Chaucer, Spencer, and that noble earle, 
Of Surrie thought it the most precious pearle, 
That dick'd his honour, to Subscribe to what 
His high engenue ever amed at 
19 



274 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sydney and Shaksspire, Drayton, Withers and 
Renowned Jonson glory of our Land : 
Deker, Learn'd Chapman, Haywood al thought good, 
To have their names in pubhke understood, . . . 

[The Poet's Blindmans Bough, 1641; ed. E. W. Ashbee, 1871, p. 3.] 

Sir John Suckling, before 1642, 

The sweat of learned Johnson's brain, 

And gentle Shakespear's eas'er strain, 

A hackney-coach conveys you to. 

In spite of all that rain can do: 

And for your eighteen pence you sit 

The Lord and Judge of all fresh wit. 

[Fragmenta Aurea, 1646; in The Works of Sir John Suckling, ed. A. H. 
Thompson, 1910, p. 27. These verses were addressed to John 
Hales.] 

Abraham Cowley, 1642. 
Aurelia. ... I shall never hear my Virginals when I play 
upon 'um, for her daughter Tabytha's singing of Psalms. The 
first pious deed will be, to banish Shakespear and Ben Johnson 
out of the parlour, and to bring in their rooms Marprelate, and 
Pryn's works. . . . 

[The Guardian, acted March 12, 1641-42, IV, vii.] 

James Shirley, 1642. 

Prologue. 
Does this look like a Term? I cannot tell; 
Our poet thinks the whole town is not well, 
Has took some physic lately, and, for fear 
Of catching cold, dares not salute this air. . . . 
I'll promise neither play nor poet live 
Till ye come back. Think what you do; you see 
What audiences we have, what company 
" To Shakespear comes, whose mirth did once beguile 
''Dull hours, and buskin' d, made even sorrow smile; 
"So lovely were the wounds, that men would say, 
" They could endure the bleeding a whole day.'' 



TO BEN JONSON 275 

He has but few friends lately; think o' that; 
He'll come no more; and others have his fate. 
^'Fletcher, the Muses' darling, and choice love 
"Of Phoebus, the delight of every grove; 
" Upon whose head the laurel grew, whose wit 
" Was the times wonder, and example, yet: 
'Tis within memory, trees did not throng, 
As once the story said, to Orpheus' song. 
''Johnson, t\vhose name, wise art did how, and wit 
' ' Is only justified by honouring it; 
" To hear whose touch, how would the learned quire 
" With silence stoop! and when he took his lyre, 
"Apollo dropped his lute, asham'd to see 
"yl rival to the god of harmony.'' 
You do forsake him too. We must deplore 
This fate, for we do know it by our door. . . . 
[Prologue to The Sisters, licensed April 26, 1642.] 

Henry Glapthorne, 1642. 

Then that great wonder of the knowing age. 

Whose very name merits the amplest page 

In Fames faire book, admired Johnson stood 

Up to the chin in the Pierian flood 

Quaffing crownd bowles of Nectar, with his bayes 

Growing about his temples; chanting layes. 

Such as were fit for such a sacred Eare 

As his majestick Masters was; to heare, 

Whom he so oft pleasd with (those mighty tasks 

Of wit and judgement) his well laboured Masks. 

[From While-Hall. A Poem. Written 1642., 1643; in The Plays and 
Poems of Henry Glapthorne, 1874, ii) 246.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1642. 
1641-2, January 6. On Twelfe Night, 1641, the prince had 
a play called The Scornful Lady, at the Cockpitt, but the kinge 
and queene were not there; and it was the only play acted at 
courte in the whole Christmas. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 58.] 



276 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1643. 

I am persuaded in time they [the Royalists] will go near to 
put down all preaching and praying, and have some religious 
masque or play instead of morning and evening prayer; it has 
been an old fashion at Court, amongst the Protestants there, to 
shut up the Sabbath with some wholesome piece of Ben Jonson 
or Davenant, a kind of comical divinity. "Aulicus," fie! are 
you not ashamed so many bishops and so many prelates at 
Oxford, and bring forth no better a reformation? 

[From the newspaper, Mercurins Brittanicus, 1643, no. 12, p. 89.] 

Anonymous, 1643. 

[Addressing the Parliament.] 

We will not dare at your strange Votes to Jear, 
Nor personate King Pym with his State-flear. 
Aspiring Cataline shall be forgot, 
Bloody Sejanus, or who e're would Plot 
Confusion to a State; . . . 

\Rump. An Exact Collection of the Choycest Poems and Songs relating 
to the late Times, from Anno idjg to Anno 1661. The Players 
Petition to the Parliament, 1662, Part I, p. 33.] 

Sir Richard Baker, 1643. 

^ . . For Writers of Playes, and such as had been Players 
themselves, William Shakespeare, and Benjamin Johnson, have 
specially left their Names recommended to posterity. 

[Chronicle of England, 1643, under the heading "Men of Note in her 
time," p. 120.] 

Thomas Fuller, 1643-62. 

Benjamin Jonson was born in this city. Though I cannot, 
with all my industrious inquiry, find him in his cradle, I can 
fetch him from his long coats. When a little child, he lived in 
Harts-horn-lane near Charing-cross, where his mother married 
a bricklayer for her second husband. 



TO BEN JONSON 277 

He was first bred in a private school in Saint Martin's church; 
then in Westminster school; witness his own epigram; 

'Camden, most reverend head, to whom I owe 

All that I am in arts, all that I know; 

How nothing's that to whom my country owes 

The great renown and name wherewith she goes,' etc. 

He was statutably admitted into Saint John's College in Cam- 
bridge (as many years after incorporated an honorary member 
of Christ Church in Oxford) where he continued but few weeks 
for want of further maintenance, being fain to return to the trade 
of his father-in-law. And let them blush not that have, but 
those who have not, a lawful calling. He helped in the new 
structure of Lincoln's Inn, when, having a trowel in his hand, 
he had a book in his pocket. 

Some gentlemen, pitying that his parts should be buried under 
the rubbish of so mean a calling, did by their bounty manumise 
him freely to follow his own ingenious inclinations. Indeed his 
parts were not so ready to run of themselves, as able to answer 
the spur; so that it may be truly said of him, that he had an 
elaborate wit wrought out by his own industry. He would sit 
silent in a learned company, and suck in (besides wine) their 
several humours into his observation. What was ore in others, 
he was able to refine to himself. 

He was paramount in the dramatic part of poetry, and taught 
the stage an exact conformity to the laws of comedians. His 
comedies were above the volge (which are only tickled with 
downright obscenity), and took not so well at the first stroke as 
at the rebound, when beheld the second time; yea, they will 
endure reading, and that with due commendation, so long as 
either ingenuity or learning are fashionable in our nation. If his 
later be not so spriteful and vigorous as his first pieces, all that 
are old will, and all that desire to be old should, excuse him 
therein. 

He was not very happy in his children, and most happy in 
those which died first, though none lived to survive him. This 



278 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

he bestowed as part of an epitaph on his eldest son, dying in 
infancy: 

'Rest in soft peace; and, ask'd, say here doth lye, 
Ben Jonson his best piece of poetry.' 

He died anno Domini 1638 ; and was buried about the belfry, 
in the abbey church at Westminster. 

* * * * 

Many were the wit-combates betwixt him [William Shake- 
speare] and Ben Johnson; which two I behold like a Spanish 
Great Gallion and an English man-of-War: Master Johnson 
(like the former) was built far higher in Learning; Solid, but 
Slow in his performances. Shakespear, with the English man- 
of-War, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all 
tides, tack about, and take advantage of all winds, by the 
quickness of his Wit and invention. 

[The History of the Worthies of England, 1662; ed. P. A. Nuttall, 1840, 
ii, 424, iii, 284.] 

Thomas Prujean, 1644. 

Of Ben Johnson's death. 

Here lyes the Fox: then what neede wee 
Fear 't in a glasse of sack? Be free; 
Drink 't off. By Jesus, Ben doth sweare, 
Vulpona ne'ere shall hurt us here. 

[Aurorata, 1644; quoted by J. P. Collier, A Bibliographical and Critical 
Account of the Rarest Books in the English Language, 1866, iii, 248.] 

Anonymous, 1644. 

Aulicus keeps to the old way of devotion, and that is the offer- 
ing up the incense of so many lies and intelligence every Sonday 
morning: one would thinke that the Judgements which have 
been writ from heaven against the prophanation of that day, 
recorded by our protomartyr. Master Burton, should be able to 
deterre a Diurnall maker, a paper-intelligencer, a penny worth of 
newes, but the Creature hath writ himselfe into a reprobate sense, 



TO BEN JONSON 279 

and you may see how it thrives with him, for his braines have 
been wonderfully blasted of late, and plannet-strucke, and he is 
not now able to provoke the meanest Christian to laughter 
but lies in a paire of foide sheets, a wofull spectacle and object 
of dullnesse, and tribulation, not to be recovered by the Protes- 
tant or Catholique liquour, either Ale or strong beer, or Sack, or 
Claret, or Hippocras, or Muscadine, or Rosasolis, which hath 
been reputed formerly by his Grandfather Ben Johnson and his 
Uncle Shakespeare, and his Couzen Germains Fletcher, and 
Beaumont, and nose-lesse Davenant, and Frier Sherley the Poets, 
the onely blossoms for the brain, the restoratives for the wit, 
the (i Sic) bathing for the wine muses, but none of these are 
now able either to warme him into a quibble, or to inflame him 
into a sparkle of invention, and all this because he hath pro- 
phaned the Sabbath by his pen. 

[From the newspaper, Mercurius Brittanicus, January 4-1 1, 1644.] 

Anonymous, 1644. 

There is no sort of verse either ancient, or modern, which we 
are not able to equal by imitation; we have our English Virgil, 
Ovid, Seneca, Lucan, Juvenal, Martial, and Catullus: in the 
Earl of Surry, Daniel, Johnson, Spencer, Don, Shakespear, and 
the glory of the rest, Sandys and Sydney. 

[Vindex Anglicus; or the Perfections of the English language defended 
and asserted, Oxford, 1644; reprinted in the Harleian Miscellany, 
V, 43I-] 

Thomas Farnaby, 1645. 

Ad Lectores. 

Martialem solum a Clariss, viro Petro Scriverio emendatum 
editumque desiderabam, quem nulla mea aut amicorum cura 
parare potuit, cujus tamen vicem non raro supplevit amica opera 
Ben. lonsonii viri (quod quae ille per ludum scripserit, serio 
legentibus liquido apparebit) in poetis omnibus versatissimi, 
historiarum, morum, rituum, amtiquitatum indagatoris exquisi- 
tissimi, & (quod semper in illo adverti) non contenti brachio levi 



28o AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

tesqua & dignos vindice nodos transmittere, sed penitissimos 
usque sensus ratione, lectione, ingenio eruere desudantis, digni 
denique (utcunque a probatis merito probetur suo) meliori 
theatro quam quo malevolorum invidiam pascat, quanquam & 
hoc regium est, posse invidiam cum mereri, turn pati. Ille, 
inquam, mihi emendationes aliquot suppeditavit ex C. V. 
Scriverii Martiale, .... 

[Mariialis Epigrammata, 1645, sig. Ae recto.] 

Anonymous, 1645. 

. . . When Charles came in, thou didst a Convert grow, 

More by thy Int'rest, than thy Nature so. 

Under his livening Beams thy Laurels spread, ] 

He first did place that Wreath about thy Head; V 

Kindly reliev'd thy wants and gave thee Bread. J 

Here 'twas thou mad'st the Bells of Fancy Chime, 

And Choak'd the Town with suffocating Rhime. 

Till Heroes form'd by thy creating Pen, 

Were grown as Cheap, and Dull, as other Men, 

Flush'd with success, full Gallery and Pit, 

Thou bravest all Mankind with want of Wit. 

Nay, in short time, wer't grown so proud a Ninny, 

As scarce t'alow that Ben himself had any. 

But when the Men of Sense thy Errow saw, 

They chek'd thy Muse, and kept the Termagant in awe. 

{The Laureat: Jack Squabb, His histary hi little, in Musarum Oxonien- 
sium, 1645; reprinted in Poems on Affairs of Slate, 1703, i, 130.] 

Anonymous, 1645. 
APOLLO. 



The Lord Vervlan, 

Chancellor oj Parnassus. 
Sir Philip Sidney, 

High Constable of Par. 
William Bvdevs, 

High Treasurer. 



Erasmus Roterodam. 
Justus Lipsius 
John Barcklay 
John Bodine 
Adrian Tvrnebvs 
Isaac Casavbon 



TO BEN JONSON 



281 



John Picvs, Earle of Miran- 
dula, High Chamherlaine. 

JvLivs Cesar 

SCALIGER 

The Jurours. 

George Wither 
Thomas Gary 
Thomas May 
William Davenant 
Josuah Sylvester 
Georges Sandes 
Michael Drayton 
Francis Beaumont 
John Fletcher 
Thomas Hayivood 
William Shakespeere 
Philip Massinger 

Joseph Scaliger, 

the censour of manners in 
Parnassus. 



Ben. Johnson, Keeper of the 
Trophonian Denne. 

John Taylovr, Cryer of the 
Court. 



John Selden 
HvGO Grotivs 
Daniel Heinsivs 
Conradvs Vossivs 
Augustine Mascardus. 

The Malefactours. 

Mercurius Britanicus 

Mer curias Aulicus 

Mercurius Civicus 

The Scout 

The writer of Diurnals 

The Intelligencer 

The writer of Occurrences 

The writer of Passages 

The Poste 

The Spye 

The writer of weekely Accounts 

The Scottish Dove, dfc. 



Edmvnd Spencer, 
Clerk of the Assises. 



(The Court thus set) the sturdy Keeper then 

Of the unhospitall Trophonian Den, 

His trembhng Pris'ners brought unto the barre; 

For Sterne aspect, with Mars hee might compare, 

But by his belly, and his double chinne, 

Hee look'd like the old Hoste of a New Inne. 

Thus when sowre Ben his fetter'd cattell had 

Shut up together in the pinfold sad: 

John Taylour, then the Courts shrill Chanticleere 

Did summon all the Jurours to appeare. 



282 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

While Civicus did thus his tryall heare; 

One comes, and whispers Phoebus in the eare, 

And him advertis'd, that a secret friend 

Of Civicus, did to his Highness send, 

A present of some Sack, and sugar loaves. 

And that therewith, the Giver humbly moves, 

That the poore Pris'ner might receive such grace, 

As might be justly found in such a case. 

Apollo then, in choler and disdain. 

Did thus break out in termes. What madness vain, 

Or impudence (said He) in humane race 

Remains? That they should think with bribes t'efface 

Our resolutions just, and us divert 

From judgement by the law, and by desert; 

Then he the Gaoler call'd for (Honest Ben) 

The Keeper fat, of the Trophonian Den: 

Him he commands to seize upon (in hast) 

The bringer of the bribe, and keep him fast ; 

And since the Tuhhe of which he told the tale. 

By splitting, had deceiv'd him of his ale; 

And since his New-Inne too had got a crack. 

He bids him take the Sugar loves, and Sack, 

To make his lov'd Magnatick Lady glad. 

That still (for want of an applause) was sad. 

[The Great Assises Holden in Parnassus by Apollo and his Assessours, 
1645; reprinted in Publications of the Spenser Society, pp., 3-49, 
21-22.1 

Paul Aylward, 1645. 

To his deere Jriend Mr. Henry Burkhead. 
You I preferre. Johnson for all his wit 
Could never paint out times as you have hit 
The manners of our age: The fame declines 
Of ne're enough prays'd Shakespeare if thy lines 
Come to be publisht: Beaumont and Fletcher's skill 
Submitts to yours, and your more learned quill. 
[Prefixed to Burkhead's Tragedy of Cola's Furie, Kilkenny, 1645.] 



TO BEN JONSON 283 

Daniel Breedy, 1645. 
Deere friend since then this peece so well limn'd 
As most would thinke 'twas by Ben. Johnson trimm'd, 
That Shakespeare, Fletcher, and all did combine 
To make Lirenda through the Clouds to shine. 
[Commendatory lines prefixed to Henry Burkhead's Tragedy of Cola's 
Furie, Kilkenny, 1645.] 

Samuel Sheppard, 1646. 

So his that divine Plautus equalled, 
Whose commick vain Menander nere could hit, 
Whose tragick sceans shall be with wonder read 
By after ages, for unto his wit 
My selfe gave personal ayd, I dictated 
To him when as Sejanus fall he writ, 
And yet on earth some foolish sots there bee. 
That dare make Randolf his rival in degree. 
[The Times Displayed in Six Sestyads, 1646, the Sixth Sestyad; quoted 
from E. Brydges, The British Bibliographer, 1810, i, 534.] 

George Daniel, 1646. 

To Time and Honour. 
. . . The proud Italian 
And iustly proud in Poesie, will allow 
The English (though not Equall) next him now. 
The noble Sidney, crown'd with liveing Bayes; 
And Spencer, cheif, (if a peculiar praise 
May pass, and from the rest not derogate) 
The learned Jonson, whose Dramaticke State 
Shall stand admir'd Example, to reduce 
Things proper, to the light, or buskind Muse. 
[The Poems of George Daniel, ed. A. B. Grosart, 1878, i, 33.] 

George Daniel, 1646. 

A Vindication of Poesie. 
Here pause a little ; for I would not Cloy 
The curious Eare, with recitations; 
And meerly looke at names; attend with loy 



284 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Unto ail Enjjlish Quill, who ri\aircl once 

Rome, not to make her blush; and knowne of late 
Unenvicd ('cause unequall'd) Laureate. 

This, this was lonson; who in his owne name 
("arries his praise; and may he shine alone; 
I am not tyed to any generall lYame, 
Nor fixed by the Approbation 

Of great ones; But I speake without pretence, 

Hee was, of English Drammatickes, the Prince. 

[The Poems of George Daniel, ed. A. B. Grosart, 1878, i, 29.] 

Henry Vaughan, 1646. 

To my Ingenuous Friend, R. W. 

When we are dead, and now, no more 

Our harmles mirth, our wit, and score 

Distracts the towne; . . . 

Wee'le beg the world would be so kinde, 

To give's one grave as w^ee'de one minde; 

There — as the wiser few suspect. 

That spirits after death affect — 

Our soules shall meet; and thence will they 

— Freed from the tyranny of clay^ — 

With equall wings, and ancient love 

Into the Elysian fields remove; 

Where in those blessed walkes they'le find. 

More of tin- genius, and my mind: 

First, in the shade of his owne bayes, 

Great Ben they'le see, w^hose sacred layes, 

The learned ghosts admire, and throng, 

To catch the subject of his song. 

Then Randolph in those hol\- meades, 

His Lovers, and Amyntas reads. 

Whilst his Nightingall close by, 

Sings his, and her owne elegie. 

[Poems, 1646; in The Works of Henry Vaughan, ed. A. B. Grosart, 
1871, ii, 7. See also the entry "Henry Tubbe, about 1650."! 



TO BEN JONSON 285 

Robert Hills, 1647. 
To the most Ingenious Master Robert Baron, 
on his Masterpiece of Tragedy. 
Pythagoras sang truth, souls shift we see 
^ For Johnson's transmigrated into Thee: 
Or if that Doctrines false, thy glory's more 
Without his helpes to equal, whom before 
We thought Sans peer: both are so very well. 
So like, as mix them, and you cannot tell 
Me which is which." Thou Fame enough hast won. 
Thy name is up, nozc maist thou lie till Noon, 
And rest thy strong Muse, having equall'd him 
Whom sharpest wits did our best Poet deem : 
I know thy Judgment's more than t'aim ought higher. 
Thou mightest as well hope to drown Phoebus Lyre; 
Yet write again, till all the world's agree'd 
Thy Pegasus has breath as well as speed. 
Mean time, who'l number our best Playes aright 
First Cataline, then let him Mirza write. 
So mix your names: in the third place must be 
Seianus, or the next that comes from thee. 
[Prefixed to Robert Baron's Mirza, 1647, sig. A4.] 

Robert Baron, 1647. 

Emir-hamze-mirza's Ghost irritating his Brother Abbas to 
revenge him upon himself, bids him act those things upon his 
Son, which his very enemies shall pitty, (not without the example 
of the matchless Johnson, who, in his Cataline (which miraculous 
Poem I propose as my pattern) makes Sylla's Ghost perswade 
Catiline to do what Hannibal could not wish). 

* * * * 

For the other ingredients of witchcraft ... I refer you to 
Ovids Met. . . . and Master Sandys his learned comment there- 
on: To Father Lewis Richeome, his Pilgrim of Loretto . . . 
to Delrius disquis. Magic, and to our elaborate Poet Laureat, 
John son, his Masque of Queens, in which inimitable Poem he has 



286 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

treasured up all the knowledge of the Antients, of this Theam, 
of which all or most of the Antient Poets wrote something, 
bringing in some Witch. 

[Annotations to Robert Baron's Mirza, 1647, pp. 161, 223. For 
Baron's extensive indebtedness to Jonson, see J. F. Bradley, 

Modern Language Notes, xxxiv, 402.] 

Sir George Lisle, 1647. 

To the memory of my most honoiired kinsman, 
^ Mr. Francis Beaumont. 

Great Father Johnson bow'd himselfe when hee 
(Thou writ'st so nobly) vow'd he envy'd thee. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

Sir John Denham, 1647. 

On Mr. John Fletcher's Workes. 
Then was wits Empire at the fatall height, 
When labouring and sinking with its weight, 
From thence a thousand lesser Poets sprong. 
Like petty Princes from the fall of Rome, 
When Johnson, Shakespeare, and thy selfe did sit, 
And sway'd in the Triumvirate of wit — 
/X Yet what from Johnsons oyle and sweat did flow, 
Or what more easie nature did bestow 
On Shakespeares gentler Muse, in thee full grown 
Their graces both appeare. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

James Howell, 1647. 

Upon Master Fletchers Dramaticall Workes. 
Had now grim Ben bin breathing, with what rage 
And high-swolne fury had Hee lash'd this age, 
Shakespeare with Chapman had grown madd, and torn 
Their gentle Sock, and lofty Buskins worne, 
To make their Muse welter up to the chin 
In blood. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 



TO BEN JONSON 287 

George Buck, 1647. 

Let Shakespeare, Chapman, and applauded Ben, 
Weare the Eternall merit of their Pen, 
Here I am love-sicke: and were I to chuse, 
A Mistris corrivall 'tis Fletcher's Muse. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

William Cartwright, 1647. 

Upon the report of the printing of the Dramaticall Poems 
of Master John Fletcher. 
Though when all Fletcher writ, and the entire 
Man was indulged unto that sacred fire, 
His thoughts, and his thoughts dresse, appeared both such. 
That 'twas his happy fault to do too much; 
Who therefore wisely did submit each birth 
To knowing Beaumont e'r it did come forth, 
Working againe, untill he said 'twas fit, 
And made him the sobriety of his wit; 
Though thus he call'd his Judge into his fame, 
And for that aid allow'd him halfe the name, 
'T is knowne, that sometimes he did stand alone. 
That both the Spunge and Pencill were his owne ; 
That himself judged himselfe, could singly do, 
And was at last Beaumont and Fletcher too; 
Else we had lost his Shepheardesse, a piece 
Even and smooth, spun from a finer fleece, 
Where softnesse raignes, where passions passions greet, 
Gentle and high, as flouds of Balsam meet. 
Where dress'd in white expressions, sit bright Loves, 
Drawne, like their fairest Queen, by milkie Doves; 
A piece, which Johnson in a rapture bid 
Come up a glorifi'd Worke, and so it did. 
* * * * 
'Twixt Johnsons grave, and Shakespeares lighter sound, 
His muse, so steer 'd that something still was found, 
Nor this, nor that, nor both, but so his owne, 
That 'twas his marke, and he was by it knowne. 



288 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Another. 
Johnson hath writ things lasting, and divine, 
Yet his Love-Scenes, Fletcher, compar'd to thine. 
Are cold and frosty, and exprest love so. 
As heat with Ice, or warme fires mixt with Snow; 
Thou, as if struck with the same generous darts, 
Which burne, and raigne in noble Lovers hearts. 
Hast cloath'd affections in such native tires, 
And so describ'd them in their owne true fires, 
Such moving sighes, suc[h] undissembled teares. 
Such charmes of language, such hopes mixt with feares. 
Such grants after denialls, such persuits 
After despaire, such amorous recruits. 
That some who sate spectators have confest 
Themselves transform'd to what they saw exprest, 
And felt such shafts steale through their captiv'd sence, 
As made them rise Parts, and goe Lovers thence. 

* * * * 
Nor hadst thou the sly trick, thy selfe to praise 
Under thy friends names, or to purchase Bayes 
Didst write stale commendations to thy Booke, 
Which we for Beaumonts or Ben Johnsons tooke; 
That debt thou left'st to us, which none but he 
Can truly pay, Fletcher, who writes like thee. 

[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

John Berkenhead, 1647. 

On the happy Collection of Master Fletcher's Works, 
never before Printed. 
Dead and insipid, all despairing sit 
Lost to behold this great Relapse of Wit: 
What strength remains, is like that (wilde and fierce) 
Till Johnson made good Poets and right Verse. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

Edward Powell, 1647. 

To the memorie of Master Fletcher. 
So sweet, it gain'd more ground upon the Stage, 



TO BEN JONSON 289 

Than Johnson with his self-admiring rage 
Ere lost. 

[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

• 

Joseph Howe, 1647. 

In Honour of Mr. Fletcher. 
How was he Ben, when Ben did write 
To th'stage, not to his judge endite? 
How did he doe what Johnson did, 
And Earne what Johnson wou'd have s'ed? 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

Henry Harrington, 1647. 

On Mr. Fletcher's ever to he admired Dramaticall Works. 
Pray tell me, gallant Wits, could Criticks think 
There ere was solecisme in Fletchers Inke? 
Or Lapse of Plot, or fancy in his pen? 
A happinesse not still alow'd to Ben! 
After of Time and Wit h'ad been at cost 
He of his owne New-Inne was but an Hoste. 
[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher.] 

Richard Brome, 1647. 

To the memory oj the deceased but ever-living Authoiir in these 

his Poems, Mr. John Fletcher. 

While this of Fletcher and his Works I speake: 

His Works (says Momus) nay, his Plays you'd say: 

Thou hast said right, for that to him was Play 

Which was to others braines a toyle. . . . 

]VIost knowing Johnson (proud to call him Sonne) 

In friendly Envy swore, He had out-done 

His very Selfe. 

[Prefixed to the 1647 Folio of Beaumont and Fletcher. The first four 
lines allude to Jonson's having called his plays "Workes."] 

Henry Vaughan, 1647. 

Upon Mr. Fletcher's Playes Published 1647. 
This, or that age may write, but never see 
A wit that dares run paralell with thee. 



290 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

True, Ben must live! but bate him, and thou hast 
Undone all future wits, and match'd the past. 
[Olor Iscanus, 1651; in The Works of Henry Vaughan, ed. A. B. Grosart, 
1871, ii, 102.1 

Robert Herrick, before 1648. 

Upon Ben Jonson. 
Here lyes Johnson with the rest 
Of the Poets ; but the Best. 
Reader, wo'dst thou more have known? 
Aske his Story, not this Stone. 
That will speake what this can't tell 
Of his glory. So farewell. 
[Hesperides, 1648.] 

Robert Herrick, before 1648. 

An Ode for Him. 
Ah Ben! 

Say how, or when 
Shall we thy Guests 
Meet at those Lyrick Feasts, 
Made at the Sun, 
The Dog, the triple Tunne? 
Where we such clusters had. 
As made us nobly wild, not mad; 
And yet each Verse of thine 
Out-did the meate, out-did the frolick wine. 

My Ben ! 
Or come agen: 
Or send to us. 
Thy wits great over-plus; 
But teach us yet 
Wisely to husband it; 
Lest we that Tallent spend : 
And having once brought to an end 
That precious stock ; the store 
Of such a wit the world sho'd have no more. 
[Hesperides, 1648.] 



TO BEN JONSON 291 

Robert Herrick, before 1648. 

Upon M. Ben. Johnson. Epig. 
After the rare Arch-Poet Johnson dy'd, 
The Sock grew loathsome, and the Buskins pride. 
Together with the Stages glory stood 
Each like a poore and pitied widowhood. 
The Cirque prophan'd was; and all postures rackt: 
For men did strut, and stride, and stare, not act. 
Then temper flew from words; and men did squake, 
Looke red, and blow, and bluster, but not speaker 
No Holy-Rage, or frantick-fires did stirre, 
Or flash about the spacious Theater. 
No clap of hands, or shout, or praises-proofe 
Did crack the Play-house sides, or cleave her roofe. 
Artlesse the Sceane was; and that monstrous sin 
Of deep and arrant ignorance came in ; 
Such ignorance as theirs was, who once hist 
At thy unequal'd Play, the Alchymist: 
Oh fie upon 'em! Lastly too, all witt 
In utter darkenes did, and still will sit 
Sleeping the lucklesse Age out, till that she 
Her Resurrection ha's again with Thee. 
[Hesperides, 1648.] 

Robert Herrick, before 1648. 

His Prayer to Ben JoJmson. 
When I a Verse shall make, 
Know I have praid thee. 
For old Religions sake. 
Saint Ben to aide me. 

Make the way smooth for me, 
' p< When I, thy Herrick, 

Honouring thee, on my knee 
Off^er my Lyrick. 

Candles He give to thee. 
And a new Altar; 



292 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And thou Saint Ben, shalt be 
Writ in my Psalter. 
[Hesperides, 1648.] 

Thomas Bradford, 1648. 
Here is a Chimist which from a rude masse 
Extracts Elixar that death may well surpasse 
Spencer's ninth Canto in the fairy Queene, 
Or Ben's Vulpony, oh had he but scene 
Thy pregnant fancy, how could he forebeare 
To rend his Cat'line and by Jove to sweare 
Thy'ns the better. 
[Prefixed to Robert Baron's Cyprian Academy, 1648.] 

Anonymous, 1648. 

Wednesday the 27 of December. 

From Windsor came to White-Hall this day thus. That the 

King is pretty merry, and spends much time in reading of Sermon 

Books, and sometimes Shakspeare and Ben: Johnsons Playes. 

[Perfect Occurrences of Every Dates iournall in Parliament, Proceedings 
■with His Majesty, and other moderate intelligence. No. 104, Fryday, 
Dec. 22 to Fryday, Dec. 30, 1648.] 

George Daniel, 1648. 

. . . But what Stile 
Carries a Buskin deep enough to Sing 
Royall Distresses and lament a King? 
Call Suckling from his Ashes, reinspir'd 
With an Elizian Trance; . . . 
Oh! he may Speake, or lonson's numerous Soule 
(Now great as Pindar's) might these Gests enroll ; 
But then, alas, the greife is where it lay; 
They sing too high ; wee know not what they Say; 
For earth is dull, and may not comprehend 
Those heights of wonder which they else have pen'd. 

[nOATAOriA; or Several Ecloges; in The Poems of George Daniel, ed. 
A. B. Grosart, 1878, ii, 195.] 



TO BEN JONSON 293 

John Cook, 1649. 

He [Charles] was no more affected with a h*st that was brought 
in to Oxford of five or six thousand slain at Edgehill, than to 
read one of Ben. Johnson's tragedies. 

* H: * * 

Had he [Charles] but studied Scripture half so much as Ben. 
Johnson or Shakespear, he might have learnt that when Amaziah 
was setled in the kingdon, he suddenly did justice upon those 
servants which had killed his father Joash. 

[King Charles his Case, 1649; reproduced in The Somers Collection of 
Tracts, 181 1, v, 215, 219.] 

Anonymous, 1649. 

Though Johnson, Shakespeare, Goffe, and Davenant, 
Brave Sncklm, Beaumont, Fletcher, Shurley want 
The life of action, and their learned lines 
Are loathed by the Monsters of the times; 
Yet your refined Soules, can penetrate 
Their depth of merit, and excuse their Fate. 

[The Famous Tragedie of King Charles I, Basely Butchered, 1649, p. 4, 
The Prologue to the Gentry.] 

Henry Tubbe, about 1650, 

. . . When Thou & I, 
That never single were, must part and dyer 
Our Freinds (I hope) will be so liberall 
And kind, to let us have one Buriall, 
One Grave to blend our Ashes, as one Life 
Did mix our equall Hearts with mutuall strife 
Of Friendship & Delight. There (as Wise Men 
Beleeve, that Love lives after Death) agen 
Our Spirits shall intermix, & weave their Knots; 
Free from the trouble of these earthly Grotts; 
Thence winged flie to the Elysian Groves, 
Where, whilst wee still renew our constant Loves, 
A Thousand Troops of Learned Ghosts shall meet 
Us, and our coming thither gladly greet. 
First the Great Shadow of Renowned BEN 



294 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Shall give us hearty, joyfull Wellcome: then 

Ingenious Randolph from his lovely Arms 

Shall entertaine us with such mighty charms 

Of strict embraces, that wee cannot wish 

For any comforts greater than this Blisse. 

{From Harl. MS., 4126; reproduced in Oxford Historical and Literary 
Studies, V, 65. Cf. the entry "Henry Vaughan, 1646."] 

Robert Wilde, about 1650, 

Invent{ion]. May I be so bold as to peruse your Library? 
Ped[anto\. Yes Sir, if you please; see the Books I have bor- 
rowed for the Business. 

[Invention takes up the Books, looks in them, and speaks.] 

* * * * 

Ben. Johnson. 
Invent. 

Great Brick-bat Ben, the Envy of thy Days! 
Thy only English Brow deserves the Bays. 
Others did wear the Ivy-Bush as Sign, 
Not of their Wit, but, Lattice-face, and Wine. 
But thy Industrious Brain (great Ben!) did seem 
To make the Lawrel, which thou wore, grow Green. 
Thine are the Tragicks and the Comick Lays; 
And thou'rt th' Refiner of our Drossy Phrase; 
And so thy Alchymy, I dare behold. 
Hath turn'd our baser Mettal into Gold. 

Fur[or Poeticus]. Pritty! Piitty! . . . Every half quarter of 
an Hour a glass of Sack must be sent of an Errand into his Guts, 
to tell his Brains they must come up quickly, and help out with 
a Line. — So take him Jaylor. 

Shakspear. 
Invent. 

His Quill as quick as Feather from the Bow! 
O who can such another Falstaff show? 
And if thy Learning had been like thy Wit, 
Ben would have blusht, and Johnson never writ. 

[The Benefice, 1689, sigs. A4 verso, Bi verso. The coarseness of the 
language prevents the passage from being cited entire.] 



< 



TO BEN JONSON 295 

Anonymous, 1651. 

Now men may see, how much reason Ben. Jonson had, when 
as, lying sicke ir his bed, very poore, and that after much im- 
portunity of Courtiers, ten pounds were sent to him by the King, 
after the receit of which, Ben. threw them through the glasse 
windowes, saying, this mans soule was not fit to live in an alley. 

And this said mans soule, was more fixt on Bens verses, and 
other Romances, during the time of his imprisonment, then on 
those holy Writs, wherein salvation is to be sought for the soul, 
as well as for the body. 

[The None-Such Charles, his Character, 1651, p. 170.] 

F. J., 1651. 

The Preface to the Reader. 
. . . Tom Randal, the adopted son of Ben Jonson, being' the 
translator hereof, followed his father's steps; they both of them 
loved sack and harmless mirth. 

[Prefixed to Thomas Randolph's Hey for Honesty, 1651.] 

Samuel Sheppard, 1651. 

On Mr. Davenants most excellent Tragedy of Albovine 
k[ing] of [the] Lombards. 
Shakespeares Othello, Johnsons Catiline, 
Would lose their luster, were thy Albovine 
Placed betwixt them. 

[Epigrams Theological, Philosophical, and Romantick, 1651, Book 4, 
Epigram 30.] 

J. S., 1651. 

To the Reader. 
The true and primary intent of the Tragedians and Com- 
medians of old, was to magnifie Virtue and to depress Vice; 
And you may observe throughout the Works of incomparable 
Johnson, excellent Shakespear, and elegant Fletcher, &c., they 
(however vituperated by some streight-laced brethren not capable 
of their sublimity,) aim at no other end. 

[An excellent Comedy, called the Prince of Priggs revels, 1651.] 



296 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1651. 

To the Reader. 

. . . There are can witness, that our ablest Judge & Professor 

of Poesie, said with some passion, My Son Cartwright writes all 

like a Man: you'l soon guess 'twas Ben lonson spake it: What 

had Ben said had he read his own eternity in that lasting Elegy 

given him by our Author, or that other Latine one by our Author's 

Friend Mr. Robert Waring, neither of which Peeces are easie to 

be imitated. 

[Prefixed to William Cartwright 's Comedies, Tragi- Comedies, With other 
Poems, 1651. Possibly the writer was Humphrey Moseley, the 
publisher.] 

Sir Robert Stapylton, 1651. 

On Mr. Cartwright and his Poems. 
All Poets graces may in him be read, 
Why should not all their Bayes then crown his head? 
'Tis true, he's of our Authors last set forth. 
But last in Order is the first in Worth: 
If Time be measur'd by an hour-glass run, 
-jC He may be Johnson's Grand-Child, Fletcher's Son. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

W. Towers, 1651. 

On Mr. William Cartwright's surviving Poems. 
How did the factious London-Wits first praise, 
And then with slanderous But maligne thy Bayes! . . . 
^ And thus thy Father Johnson (since naught can 
Besides the Sun and Man, beget a Man, 
Phoebus and He thy (Sire) was hiss'd at still 
More with the Fools Goose-Tongue, than the Goose-Quil; 
Only 'cause his Theorbo did so much 
Excell their Crowd, and jarring Cyttern Touch. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

William Stanton, 1651. 

To the Memory of the deceased Author, Mr. William Cartwright. 
O could we mourn thy Fall with such a Verse 
As thou didst powre on honour'd Johnson's Hearse! 



TO BEN JONSON 297 

An Elegie so high and wisely writ, 
It shews who is and who is not a Wit; 
Which had He hv'd to read, He had defi'd 
All the mad World, having Thee on his side; 
For Thou so praisest Him, thy Eulogy 
Still dwels on Him, and yet rebounds to Thee; 
Thine and His Temples jointly Crown'd: elsewhere 
Thou outwrit'st Others, but thy own self there. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

Francis Vaughan, 165 1. 

On Mr. William CarhvrigMs excellent Poems. 
. Cartong/j^, till now, we could have dress'd thy Shrine; 

For 'twas but stealing some good Peece of thine; 
Swear it our own, subscribe our names unto't, 
And heretofore they made no bone to do't, 
Who having robb'd thee, cry 'tis Scholars Wit; 
And then the needy Gallants think th'are quit: 
(So the Arrested Knight told Standers-by, 
These are poor Folk, they come to beg of me.) 
Thus Jonson is decry'd by some who fleece 
His Works, as much as he did Rome or Greece: 
They judge it lawfuU Prize, doing no niore 
To him, than he to those that dy'd before; 
Why do they then let Merchants Ships go free, 
Who but translate, worse Ware, and worse than He? 
These East-and-West-Translators, not like Ben, 
Do but enrich Themselves, He other men. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

William Bell, 1651. 

To the Memory of Mr. William Cartwright. 
How had we lost both Mint, and Coyn too, were 
That salvage love still fashionable here. 
To sacrifice upon the Funerall Wood 
All, the deceas'd had e'r held deer and good! 
We would bring all our speed, to ransome thine 
With Don's rich Gold, and Johnson's silver Mine; 



298 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Then to the pile add all that Fletcher writ, 
Stamp'd by thy Character a currant Wit: 
Suckling's Ore, with Sherleys small mony, by 
Heyivoods old Iron, and Shakspear's Alchemy. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

Jasper Mayne, 1651. 

To the deceased Author of these Poems. 
For thou to Nature had'st joyn'd Art, and skill, 
In Thee Ben Johnson still held Shakespear s Quill; 
A Quill, rul'd by sharp Judgement, and such Laws, 
As a well studied Mind, and Reason draws. 
[Prefixed to William Cartwright's Comedies, etc., 1651.] 

R. C, 1651. 

To the Reader. 
The strength of his [Bosworth's] fancy, and the shadowing of 
it in words, he taketh from Mr. Marlow in his Hero and Leander, 
whose mighty lines Mr. Benjamin Johnson (a man sensible 
enough of his own abilities) was often heard to say, that they 
were examples fitter for admiration than for parallel. 

[Prefixed to William Bosworth's The Chast and Lost Lovers, 1651.] 

Anonymous. 1652. 

Poeta is her Minion, to whom she [Eloquentia] resignes the 
whole government of her Family. . . . Ovid she makes Major- 
domo. Homer because a merry Greek, Master of the Wine- 
Cellars. Aretine (for his skill in Postures) growing old, is made 
Pander. Shack-Spear, Butler. Ben Johnson, Clark of the 
Kitchin, Tenner his Turn-spit, And Taylor his Scullion. 

[A Hermeticall Banquet, drest by a Spagiricall Cook, 1652, p. 35.] 

John Martyn, Henry Herringham, and Richard Mariot, 1652. 

The Booksellers to the Reader. 

If our care and endeavours to do our Authors right (in an 

incorrupt and genuine Edition of their Works) and thereby to 

gratifie and oblige the Reader, be but requited with a suitable 

entertainment, we shall be encourag'd to bring Ben Johnson's 



TO BEN JONSON 299 

two volumes into one, and publish them in this form; and also 
to reprint Old Shakespear: both which are designed by 

yours, 
Ready to serve you. 
[Prefixed to Beaumont and Fletcher's The Wild-Goose Chase, 1652.] 

Title-page, 1652. 

The Widow A Comedie. As it was Acted at the private 
House in Black-Fryers with great Applause, by His late Majesties 
Servants. Written by Ben: Jonson. John Fletcher. Tho: 
Middleton. Gent. Printed by the Originall Copy ... for 
Humphrey Moseley . . . 1652. 

Alexander Gough, 1652. 

To the Reader. 
Considering how the curious pay some part of their esteem to 
excellent persons in the careful preservation but of their defaced 
statues; instead of decayed medals of the Romans' greatness, 
I believe it of more value to present you this lively piece, drawn 
by the art of Jonson, Fletcher, and Middleton, which is thought 
to have a near resemblance to the portraiture we have in Terence 
of those worthy minds, where the great Scipio and Laelius strove 
to twist the poet's ivy with the victor's bays. . . . Since our 
own countrymen are not in anything inferior, it were to be wished 
they had but so much encouragement. 
[Prefixed to The Widow, 1652.] 

John Hall, 1652. 

To Master Richard Brome, on his Play, called, A Joviall Crew. 
Playes are instructive Recreations: 
Which, who would write, may not expect, at once. 
No, nor with every breeding, to write well. 
And, though some itching Academicks fell 
Lately upon this Task, their Products were 
Lame and imperfect; and did grate the eare; 
So, that they mock'd the stupid Stationers care, 
That both with Guelt and Cringes did prepare 



300 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Fine Coppei-Cuts; and gather'd Verses too, 
To make a Shout before the idle Show. 

Your Fate is other: You do not invade; 
But by great Johnson were made free o'tW Trade. 
So, that we must in this your Labour finde 
Some Image and fair ReHque of his Minde. 
[Prefixed to Richard Brome's A Joviall Crew, 1652.] 

John Tatham, 1652. 

To my Worthy Friend Master Richard Brome, on his excellent 
Play, called, A Joviall Crew. 
There is a Faction (Friend) in Town, that cries, 
Down with the Dagon-Poet, Johnson dies. 
His Works were too elaborate, not fit 
To come within the Verge, 01 face of Wit. 
Beaumont and Fletcher (they say) perhaps, might 
Passe (well) for currant Coin, in a dark night: 
But Shakespeare the Plebean Driller, was 
Founder'd in's Pericles, and must not pass. 
And so, at all men flie, that have but been 
Thought worthy of Applause; therefore, their spleen. 
Ingratefull Negro-kinde, dart you your Rage 
Against the Beams that warm'd you, and the Stage! . . 
Some hopes left us, that this, thy well-wrought Piece, 
May bring it Cure, reduce it to its sight. 
To judge th' difference 'twixt the Day, and Night; 
Draw th' Curtain of their Errours; that their sense 
May be comformable to Ben's Influence; 
And finding here, Nature and Art agree. 
May swear, thou liv'st in Him, and he in Thee. 
[Prefixed to Richard Brome's A Joviall Crew, 1652.I 

Francis Kirkman, 1652. 

To His much honored Friend, Wit. Beesto?t, Esq. 

Worthy Sir, 

Divers times (in my hearing) to the admiration of the whol 
Company, you have most judiciously discoursed of Poesie. . . . 
I am vers'd in Forraign tongues and subscribe to your opinion, 



TO BEN JONSON 301 

that no Nation ever could glory in such Playes, as the most 
learned and incomparable Johnson, the copious Shakespear, or 
the ingenuous Fletcher compos'd. 

[Prefixed to The Loves and Adventures of Clerico & Lozia, 1652.] 

J. Hall, 1653. 

And though I do not tell you, how you dress 

Virtue in glories, and bold vice depress, 

Nor celebrate your lovely Dutchess' fall. 

Or the just ruin of your Cardinal; 

Yet this I dare assert, when men have nam'd 

Jonson, the nation's laureat, the fam'd 

Beaumont and Fletcher, he that wo'not see 

Shirley the fourth, must forfeit his best eye. 

[Commendatory verses on James Shirley's The Cardinal, 1653. The 
writer was probably the "Jo. Hall" who prefixed commendatory 
verses to Shirley's The Grateful Servant.] 

Richard Fleckno, 1653. 

From thence passing on to Black-fryers, and seeing never a 
Play-bil on the Gate, no Coaches on the place, nor Doorkeeper at 
the Play-house door, with his Boxe like a Church-warden, desiring 
you to remember the poor Players, I cannot but say for Epilogue 
to all the Playes were ever Acted there : 

Poor House, that in dayes of our Grand-sires, 

Belongst unto the Mendiant Fryers: 

And where so oft in our Fathers dayes 

We have seen so many of Shakspears Playes. 

So many of Johnsons, Beaumonts, & Fletchers, 

Untill I know not what Puritan Teachers: 

(Who for their Tone, their Language, df Action, 

Might 'gainst the Stage make Bedlam a faction) 

Have made with their Raylings the Players as poore 

As were the Fryers and Poets before: 

Since th'ast the tricke on't all Beggars to make, 

I wish for the Scotch-Presbyterian' s sake 



302 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

To comfort the Players and Fryers not a little, 
Thou mayst be turn'd to a Puritan spittle. 
[Miscellania, 1653, P- 141-] 

Sir Aston Cokaine, 1653. 

A Prceludium to Mr. Richard Brome's Playes. 
Then we shall still have Playes! and though we may 
Not them in their full Glories yet display; 
Yet we may please our selves by reading them, 
Till a more Noble Act this Act condemne. 
Happy will that day be, which will advance 
This Land from durt of precise Ignorance; 
Distinguish Morall Virttce, and Rich Wit, 
And gracejull Action, from an unfit 
Parenthesis of Coughs, and Hums, and Haes, 
Threshing of Cushions, and Tautologies. 
Then the dull Zelots shall give way, and flye. 
Or be converted by bright Poesie. 
Apollo may enlighten them, or else 
In Scottish Grots they may conceale themselves. 
Then shall Learn 'd Johnson reassume his Seat, 
Revive the Phcenix by a second heat. 
Create the Globe anew, and people it, 
By those that flock to surfet on his Wit. 
Judicious Beaumont, and th'Ingenious Soule 
Of Fletcher too may move without controule. 
Shakespeare (most rich in Humours) entertaine 
The crowded Theaters with his happy veine. 
Davenant and Massinger, and Sherley, then 
Shall be cry'd up againe for Famous men. 
And the Dramatick Muse no longer prove 
The peoples Malice, but the peoples Love. 
Black, and white Fryers too, shall flourish againe. 
Though here have bin none since Queen Mary's reign. 
Our Theaters of lower note in those 
More happy dales, shall scorne the rustick Prose 
Of a Jack-pudding, and will please the Rout, 
With wit enough to beare their Credit out. 



TO BEN JONSON 303 

The Fortune will be lucky, see no more 
Her Benches bare, as they have stood before. 
The Bull take Courage from Applauses given, 
To Eccho to the Taurus in the Heaven. 

Lastly, St. James may no aversion show, 
That Socks, and Buskins tread this Stage below. 
May this Time quickly come, those daies of Blisse 
Drive Ignorance down to the dark Abisse. 
Then (with a justly attributed praise) 
Wee'l change our faded Broom, to deathlesse Baies. 
[Prefixed to Five New Playes, 1653.] 

Title-page, 1654. 

The Harmony of the Muses, or the Gentlemans and Ladies 
Choicest Recreation; Full of various pure and transcendent 
Wit, containing severall excellent Poems, Some Fancies of Love, 
some of Disdain, &c. written by those unimitable Masters of 
Learning and Invention, Dr. Joh. Donn, Dr. H. King, Dr. W. 
Stroad, Sir K. Digby, Mr. Ben Johnson, Mr. F. Beaumont, J. 
Cleveland, T. Randolph, T. Carew. London, Printed by T. W. 
for W. Gilbertson, 1654. 

Edmund Gayton, 1654. 

There is not of all that expencefuU madnesse so much left for 
profit or recreation, as the History of that Quixo-PMlosophy, or 
Philosophers, unlesse what is most admirably Satyriz'd by our 
Father Ben (of eternall memory) in his Play of the Alchymist: 

Spectatum admissi Risum teneatis Amici? Which would move 
laughter most, our Dons encountring his Windmill, or his Lord- 
ship at the Furnace? Being Subtle, Face, Lungs, and all : Bestow 
a brace of tassled Caps upon them both, and so exeant. (P. 3.) 
* * * * 

How snakelike he gathers, and incircles himselfe, under the 
covert of his Target, which was so peal'd with stones, and rung 
as loud, that the Don was not much unlike a rattle snake, that 
Politick Sir under the Tortoise shell, nor he that was shewn for 
the Fish. (P. II.) 



304 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Wherein, besides these books of Infamous losse, were the 
severall duels, onslaughts, stormes, and military performances, 
of the two never to he reconciled families, (like the Capnlets and 
the Mountchensies, Eteocleans, and Polyniceans, Douglasses and 
Percies, Giielfs and Guibhlins) of enraged Sr. John Daiv, and 
incensed Sr Amorous La-Fool. (P. 19.) 

* * * * 

We will therefore end this perplexed piece of controversy 
(as our father Ben hath given example,) who dedicating his 
Fox to the two Universities of this Hand, Fox-like (knowing they 
alwaies quarrelled for Antiquity) in a most handsome and 
unenviable compellation, stil'd them most equall Sisters. (P. 20.) 

^ sjc 5}: ^ 

Father Ben (when one unhappily mulcted for peeping into 
holes, he had no right to, swore he had got a clap, which he 
called the French Pox) was worthily wroth at the expression, 
and in a fume, said, why not (Sr) the English Pox? We have 
as good and as large, as they have any. (P. 21.) 

* * * * 

Our Fairy Queen, the Arcadia, Drayton, Beaumont and Fletcher, 
Shakespeare, Johnson, Randolph; and lastly, Gondibert, are of 
eternall fame. (P. 21.) 

* * * * 

This Affaire is much manag'd by Matrons in our Clime, unlesse 
it be when both Parents consent in the Construpation of a 
Daughter; then (as my Father Ben saith) they cannot be 
matched. (P. 120.) 

* * * * 

With strenuous Complements, (above the School, 
Of Sr John Daw, or Amorous La Fool.) (P. 129.) 

* * * * 

Our Nation also hath had its Poets, and they their wives: 
To passe the Bards; Sr Jeffery Chaucer liv'd very honestly at 
Woodstock, with his Lady, (the house yet remaining) and wrote 
against the vice most wittily, which Wedlock restraines. My 
Father Ben begate sonnes and daughters; so did Spencer, 



TO BEN JONSON 305 

Drayton, Shakespeare, and more might be reckoned, who doe 
not only word it, and end in aiery Sylvia's, Galataea's, Aglaura's; 

sedde virtute locuti, 

clunem agitant . (P. 150.) 

And although the only Laureat of our stage (having compos'd 
a Play of excellent worth, but not of equall applause) fell downe 
upon his knees, and gave thanks, that he had transcended the 
capacity of the vulgar; yet his protestation against their igno- 
rance, was not sufhcient to vindicate the misapplication of the 
argument; for the judicious part of the Auditory condemn'd it 
equally with those that did not understand it, and though the 
Comedy wanted not its 

prodesse, & delectare, 

Had it been exhibited to a scholastick confluence; yet men 
come not to study at a Play-house, but love such expressions 
and passages, which with ease insinuate themselves into their 
capacities. (P. 271.) 

* * * * 

An Inigo Jones for scenes, and a Ben Johnson for Playes, 
would have wrought great cures upon the stage, and it was so 
well reform'd in England, and growne to that height of Language, 
and gravity of stile, dependency of parts, possibility of plot, 
compasse of time, and fulnesse of wit, that it was not any where 
to be equall'd; nor are the contrivers asham'd to permit their 
playes (as they were acted) to the publick censure, where they 
stand firme, and are read with as much satisfaction, as when 
presented on the stage, they were with applause and honour. 
Indeed their names now may very well be chang'd & call'd the 
works not Playes of Johnson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Cartwright, 
and the rest, which are survivers of the stage; that having fain, 
not into Court-Reformers, but more severe correctors, who 
knowing not how to amend or repaire, have pluckt all downe, 
and left themselves the only spectacle of their times. (P. 272.) 
[Edmund Gayton, Festivous Notes upon Don Quixot, 1654.] 



306 . AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Richard Whitlock, 1654. 

Doctor Donnes high Praise of Ben Johnsons Works, in one 

expression extolleth them, and justly enough depresseth our 

Admiration of the Worlds businesse. 

The State, and mens Affaires are the best Playes 

Next yours: Tis nor more, nor Jesse then due Praise. 

[ZQOTOMIA, or, A Morall Anatomy of the Living by the Dead; in Observations, 
Essayes, &c., 1654, p. 313. As pointed out on page 37, the 
lines quoted were written not by Donne but by Sir John Roe.] 

William Towers, 1654. 

To the Reader of my Dearly Loved, Because Tridy Pious 
Friend, Mr. T. W.'s Religious Poems. 
Expect no fond invokings: we confesse 
There is no genius besides holinesse. 
Were this left out, had he another theame 
Child's straw and bubbles, would be all the gemme. . . . 
And that because there li's in neither even 
What was in Johnson's self, a close to heaven. 

[Prefixed to Thomas Washbourne's Divine Poems, 1654; in The Poems 
of Thomas Washbourne, ed. by A. B. Grosart, 1868, p. 60.] 

Sir John Mennis and Dr. James Smith, 1655. 

Upon a Surfeit caught by drinking bad Sack, at the George 

Tavern in Southwark. 

. . . Oh would I might turne Poet for an houre. 

To Satyrize with a vindictive power 

Against the Drawer: or I could desire 

Old Johnsons head had scalded in this fire; 

How would he rage, and bring Apollo down 

To scold with Bacchus, and depose the Clown, 

For his ill government, and so confute 

Our Poet Apes, that doe so much impute 

Unto the grapes inspirement!. 

[Mtisarum Delicice, 1655; Hotten's reprint, of the second edition of 
1656, p. 47.] 



TO BEN JONSON 307 

Sir John Mennis and Dr. James Smith, 1655. 

B. J. answer to a Thief bidding him stand. 
Fly villian hence, or by thy coat of steel, 
rie make thy heart my brazen bullet feel, 
And send that thrice as theevish soule of thine 
To hell, to wear the Devils Valentine. 

Thief s reply. 

Art thou great Ben? or the revived ghost 

Of famous Shakespeare? or some drunken host? 

Who being tipsie with thy muddy beer. 

Dost think thy rimes shall daunt my soule with fear? 

Nay know base Slave, that I am one of those 

Can take a purse as well in verse as prose; 

And when th'art dead write this upon thy herse, 

Here lyes a Poet that was rob'd in verse. 

[Musarum DelicicB, 1655; Hotten's reprint, of the second edition of 1656, 
p. 95. These verses appear also in a common-place book in the 
Diocesan Registry at Worcester; see the entry "Anonymous, about 
1676."] 

John Tomkins, 1655. 

To the Laurell-iuorth y Mr. E. E. on his Excellent Poems. 
Though Wit as precious every Scene doth hold. 
As Shakespeare's Lease [? Leaf] or Johnson's Massy Gold^ 
Though thou with swelling Canvas sail beyond 
Hercules Pillars, Fletcher and Beaumont, 
And though Thou art (what ever Fooles repute) 
A Poet in all Numbers Absolute. . . . 

[Prefixed to Edmund Ellis's Dia Poemata, 1655.] 

Earl of Westmorland, before 1656. 

To Cleveland before y^ first interview at Maneby. 
. . . Whose raptures are soe elevate by art 
As y' each science in them hath its part. 
And yet in Him not got w"" anvile pain, 
But flowing like a Torrent after rayne. 
[From verses addressed to John Cleveland, printed in A Little Ark, 
edited by G. Thorn-Drury. In the margin opposite the third 
line is a note "Jhonson," indicating that the allusion is to Ben 
Jonson.) 



308 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Title-page, 1656. 

Wits Academy, or Six Penyworth for a Penny, being Ben 
lohnson's last Arrow to all Citizens and London Dames, shot 
from his famous poetical Quiver, to the general view of the 
curteous Reader, laid open by way of Question and Answer, 
and interlarded with sundry choice Conceits upon the Times, 
Very pleasant and delightful. Imprinted at London by R. Wood. 
1656. 

Portrait, 1656. 

The Academy of Pleasure furnished with all kinds of complir 
mental Letters, Discourses, and Dialogues, with a variety of new 
Songs, Sonnets, and witty Inventions. . . London, 1656. 

[The engraved title-page contains portraits of Jonson, Drayton, Quarles, 
and Wither.] 

Samuel Holland, 1656. 

The fire of Emulation burnt fiercely in every angle of this 
Paradise; the Brittish Bards (forsooth) were also ingaged in 
quarrel for Superiority; and who think you, threw the Apple 
of Discord amongst them, but Ben Johnson, who had openly 
vaunted himself the first and best of English Poets; this Brave 
was resented by all with the highest indignation, for Chaivcer (by 
most there) was esteemed the Father of English Poesie, whose 
•'onely unhappines it was, that he was made for the time he lived 
in, but the time not for him: Chapman was wondrously exas- 
perated at Bens boldness, and scarce refrained to tell (his own 
Tale of a Tub) that his Isabel and Mortimer was not compleated 
hy a Knighted Poet, whose soul remained in Flesh; hereupon 
Spencer (who was very busie in finishing his Fairy Qneen) thrust 
himself amid the throng, and was received with a showt by Chap- 
man, Harrington, Owen, Constable, Daniel, and Drayton, so that 
some thought the matter already decided; but behold Shake- 
spear and Fletcher (bringing with them a strong party) appeared, 
as if they meant to water their Bayes with blood , rather then 
part with their proper Right, which indeed Apollo and the Muses 
(had with much justice) conferr'd upon them, so that now there 
is like to be a trouble in Triplex; Skelton, Cower and the Monk of 



TO BEN JONSON 309 

Bury were at Daggers-drawing for Chawcer: Spencer waited upon 
by a numerous Troop of the best Book-men in the World: Shake- 
spear and Fletcher surrounded with their Life-Guard viz. Goffe, 
Massinger, Decker, Webster, Sucklin, Cartwright, Carew, &c. 

[Don Zara del Fogo. A Mock Romance, 1656, Book ii, chap, iv, p. loi.] 

Anonymous, 1656. 

Know-well. Upon a rainy day, or when you have nought else 
to do, you may read Sir Walter Raleigh, Lord Bacons Natural 
History, the Holy Warre, the Browns Vulgar Errors. You may 
find too some stories in the English Eusehius, and the Book of 
Martyrs, to hold discourse with the Parson on a Sunday dinner. 

Mrs. Love-wit. Sometimes to your wife you may read a piece 
of Shak-speare, Suckling, and Ben. Johnson too, if you can under- 
stand him. 

[The Hectors; or the False Challenge, 1656, p. 50.] 

Edward Leigh, 1656. 

Renowned Scholars amongst us. 
. . . For Poetry, Gower, Chaucer, Spencer, Sir Philip Sidnie, 
Daniel and Draiton, Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben. Johnson. 

[A Treatise of Religion & Learning, and of Religions and Learned Men, 
1656, p. 91.] 

Anonymous, 1656. 

On the Time-poets. 
One night the great Apollo pleas'd with Ben, 
Made the odde number of the Muses ten; 
The fluent Fletcher, Beaumont rich in sense. 
In Complement and Courtships quintessence; 
Ingenious Shakespeare, Massinger that knowes 
The strength of Plot to write in verse and prose: 
Whose easie Pegassus will amble ore 
Some threescore miles of Fancy in an houre; 
Cloud-grapling Chapman, whose Aerial minde 
Soares at Philosophy, and strikes it blinde; 
Dauhourn [Dabourn] I had forgot, and let it be. 
He dy'd Amphibion by the Ministry; 



310 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Silvester, Bartas, whose translatique part 

Twinn'd, or was elder to our Laureat: 

Divine composing Quarles, whose lines aspire 

The April of all Poesy in May, [Tho. May] 

Who makes our English speak Pharsalia; 

Sands metamorphos'd so into another [Sandys] 

We know not Sands and Ovid from each other; 

He that so well on Scotus play'd the Man, 

The famous Diggs, or Leonard Claudian; 

The pithy Daniel, whose salt lines afford 

A weighty sentence in each little word; 

Heroick Draiton, Withers, smart in Rime, 

The very Poet-Beadles of the Time: 

Panns pastoral Brown, whose infant Muse did squeak 

At eighteen yeeres, better than others speak: 

Shirley the morning-child, the Muses bred, 

And sent him born with bayes upon his head: 

Deep in a dump lohn Ford alone was got 

With folded armes and melancholly hat; 

The squibbing Middleton, and Hayivood sage, 

Th'Apologetick Atlas of the Stage; 

Well of the Golden age he could intreat, 

But httle of the Mettall he could get; 

Three-score sweet Babes he fashion'd from the lump, 

For he was Christ'ned in Parnassus pump; 

The Muses Gossip to Aurora's bed. 

And ever since that time his face was red. 

Thus through the horrour of infernall deeps. 

With equal pace each of them softly creeps. 

And being dark they had Alectors Torch, [Alecto's] 

And that made Churchyard follow from his Porch, 

Poor, ragged, torn, & tackt, alack, alack 

You'd think his clothes were pinn'd upon his back. 

The whole frame hung with pins, to mend which clothes, 

In mirth they sent him to old Father Prose; 

Of these sad Poets this way ran the stream. 

And Decker followed after in a dream; 



TO BEN JONSON 31 1 

Rounce, Robbie, Hobble, he that writ so big [;] 

Basse for a Ballad, John Shank for a Jig: [Wm. Basse] 

Sent by Ben Jonson, as some Authors say, 

Broom went before and kindly swept the way: 

Old Chaucer welcomes them unto the Green, 

And Spencer brings them to the fairy Queen; 

The finger they present, and she in grace 

Transform'd it to a May-pole, 'bout which trace 

Her skipping servants, that do nightly sing, 

And dance about the same a Fayrie Ring. 

[Choyce Drollery: Songs and Sonnets, Being a Collection of Divers Ex- 
cellent Pieces of Poetry, of Several Eminent Authors, 1656; ed. J. 
W. Ebsworth, 1876, pp. 5-7.] 

Anonymous, 1656. 

Upon a House of Office over a River, set on fire 
by a coale of Tobacco. 
Oh fire, fire, fire, where? 
The usefull house o're Water cleare, 
The most convenient in a shire. 
Which no body can deny. 

The house of Office that old true blue 
Sir-reverence so many knew[,] 
You now may see turn'd fine new. 
Which no body, ^c. 

And to our great astonishment 
Though burnt, yet stands to represent 
Both mourner and the monument, 

Which no body, dfc. 

Ben Johnson's Vulcan would doe well. 
Or the merry Blades who knacks did tell. 
At firing London Bridge befell. 
Which no body, &'c. 

[Choyce Drollery: Songs and Sonnets, Being a Collection of Divers Ex- 
cellent Pieces of Poetry, of Several Eminent Authors, 1656; ed. J. 
W. Ebsworth, 1876, p. 33.] 



312 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Abraham Cowley, 1656. 
. . . From this which had hapned to my self, I began to 
reflect upon the fortune of almost all Writers, arid especially 
Poets, whose Works (commonly printed after their deaths) we 
finde stuffed out, either with counterfeit pieces, like false money 
put in to fill up the Bag, though it adde nothing to the sum; 
or with such, which though of their own Coyn, they would 
have called in themselves, for the baseness of the Alloy: whether 
this proceed from the indiscretion of their Friends, who think a 
vast heap of Stones or Rubbish a better Monument, then a little 
Tomb of Marble, or by the unworthy avarice of some Stationers, 
who are. content to diminish the value of the Author, so they 
may encrease the price of the Book; and like Vintners with 
sophisticate mixtures, spoil the whole vessel of wine, to make 
it yield more profit. This has been the case with Shakespear, 
Fletcher, Johnson, and many others; part of whose Poems I 
should take the boldness to prune and lop away, if the care of 
replanting them in print did belong to me; neither would I 
make any scruple to cut off from some the unnecessary yong 
Suchars, and from others the old withered Branches; for a great 
Wit is no more tyed to live in a Vast Volume, then in a Gigantic 
Body; on the contrary, it is commonly more vigorous, the less 
space it animates. 

[Poems, 1656, Preface.] 

Anonymous, 1656. 

An Epitaph on some bottles of Sack and Claret laid in sand. 

Enter and see this tomb (Sirs) doe not fear 

No spirits but of Sack will fright you here: 

Weep ore this tomb, your waters here may have 

Wine for their sweet companion in this grave. 

A dozen Shapespears here inter'd doe lye; 

Two dozen lohnsons full of Poetry. 

Unhappy Grapes could not one pressing doe, 

But now at last you must be buried too. 

[Parnassus Biceps, 1656, p. 63. The verses appear also in Poems by 
Robert Wilde, ed. J. W. Hunt, 1870, p. 58.] 



TO BEN JONSON 313 

Philip Kynder, 1656. 

The Attick Archaeologist (full of reading, paines and learning) 
hath moulded up a piece of Antiquity, extracted for the most 
part from the Poets, Lycophron, Sophocles, Aristophanes, Eurip- 
ides and the Scholiasts, and obtrudes upon us these to be the 
general customes of the Athenians: As if one in future age 
should make all England in ages past to be a Bartholomeiv-Faire, 
because Ben. Johnson hath writ it. Or that the condition of 
all our English women may be drawn out of Shackespeers merry 
wifes of Windsor; or the religion of the low-Countrimen from Mr. 
Aminadah in the Alchymist. Or from Massingers Mr. Greedy, 
a hungry Justice of Peace in Nottinghamshire : Or Will-doe 
the Parson of Gotham the Condition of all the County. These 
may be applyed to Rosinns and Goodwins Roman Antiquities. 

[The Surfeit, 1656, p. 57; reprinted in Philip Bliss, Reliqtdae Hearnianae, 
1869, iii, 248.] 

George Daniel, before 1657. 

Up07i Ben lonson's Booke. 

Bee not Deceiv'd (Dull world) Hee is not Dead ; 

Rumor is false; open His Booke, and read. 

It is Himselfe; there, Everie Scene affords 

Words above Action ; Matter beyond Words. 

If, Readers, what I say, will not sufifice 

T' evince your follies, I dare bid you twice 

What yet you have not Done ; open and Read ; 

Recant, or else 'tis You, not Hee, that's Dead. 

[The Poems of George Daniel, ed. A. B. Grosart, 1878, i, 66. Daniel 
died in 1657.] 

Henry Belasye, 1657. 

Good witts in England. Some thinke that this thickness of 
the ayre must needs breed in them thick witts, but it is not soe, 
England being like Athens in that, of whome it is sayd, Athenis 
pingue ccelum, sed tenua ingenia; id est a thick ayre but thin 
witts, for what nation can shew more refined witts than those of 
our Ben, our Shakespeare, our Baumont, our Fletcher, our Dunn, 



314 



AN ALLUSION-BOOK 



our Randol, our Crashew, our Cleveland, our Sidney, our Bacon, 
&c. 

[An English Traveler's First Curiosity, or The Knowledge of his owne 
Countrey; Historical MSS. Commission's Report on MSS. in 
Various Collections, ii, 193.] 

Joshua Poole, 1657. 

Preface. 
Some in Mr. Johnsori's time, vainly attempted to write an 
Heroick poem, in imitation of the Greeks and Latines, by the 
measures of Spondey and Dactyl, without any regard to rhythm. 
Of that number was he, who sent him a coppy of verses beginning 
thus, 

Benjamin Immortal Johnson most highlte renowned. 



The Books principally made use of in the 
compiling of this Work. 



Duhartas works. 
Ben. Johnson. 
Brown's Pastorals. 
Randolph' s Poems. 
Drayton. 
May's Lucan. 
Quarles Divine Poems. 
Quarles Divine Fancies. 
Sandy's Ovid's Metamorph. 
Sandy's Paraphrase on the 

Canticles. 
Herbert's Poems. 
Tottham's Poems. 
Withers' s Poems. 
Orlando Furioso. 
Hey wood's Dialogues and 

Drachms. 
Chapman' s Homer. 
Overbury's Characters. 
Balzack's Epistles. 
Cowley's Blossoms. 



GomersaV s Levites revenge. 

Sr. Philip Sidney's Arcadia. 

Shakespear. 

Heywood of Angels. 

Carew's Poems. 

Daniel. 

Mays Edward 3 . 

Quarles Emblems. 

Quarles Ar gains and Par- 

thenia. 
Sandys of Christ's Passion. 
Habbington's Castara. 
Sr. John Beamount's Poem. 
The valiant Bruce. 
Burton's Melancholy. 
Chapman's Hero and Leand. 
Blunt's Characters. 
Massinger's Secretary. 
Lovelace's Pastorals. 
Virgil Translated. 
Cowper's Hill. 



TO BEN JONSON 315 

Horace translated. Elegies on Mr. King. 

Ovid's Works translated. Chancer. 

Johnsonus Virbius. Advise. 

Spencer s Fairy Qneen. Holyday's Persius. 

Comedies and Tragedies, many. 
Quarles Solomon's Recantation. Quarles Eclogues. 
HoiveVs Instructions for forreign Travel. 
HoweVs vocal Forrest, and England's Tears. 
Fullers Holy State. 
Dunn's Poems. 
Malvezzi. 

Davenant' s Poems. 
Waller's Poems. 
Milton's Poems. 
Sandy's Paraphrase on Job. 
Sandy's Paraphrase on Psalms, Ecclesiastes, ^c. 
[The English Parnassus, 1657.] 

Richard Lovelace, before 1658. 

On Sanazar's Being Honored with Six Hundred Duckets by 
the Claris simi of Venice, for Composing an 
Eligiack Hexastick of the City. 
Arise, thou rev'rend shade, great Johnson, rise! 
Break through thy marble natural disguise! 
Behold a mist of insects, whose meer breath 
Will melt thy hallow'd leaden house of death. 
What was Crispinus, that you should defie 
The age for him? He durst not look so high 
As your immortal rod, he still did stand 
Honour 'd, and held his forehead to thy brand. 
These scorpions, with which we have to do, 
Are fiends, not only small but deadly too. 
Well mightst thou rive thy quill up to the back, 
And scrue thy lyre's grave chords, untill they crack. 
For though once hell resented musick, these 
Divels will not, but are in worse disease. 



3l6 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

How would thy masc'line spirit, father Ben, 
Sweat to behold basely deposed men , . . 

[Richard Lovelace's Poetical Works, ed. W. C. Hazlitt, 1864, p. 239. 
Cf. the entry "Thomas Coryat, 161 1." The allusion to Crispinus 
is to Thomas Dekker and the Poetomachia.] 

Title-page, 1658. 

The Weeding of the Coven t-Garden, or the Middlesex-Justice 
of Peace. A Facetious Comedy. A Posthume of Richard 
Brome, An Ingenious Servant, and Imitator of his Master, that 
famously Renowned Poet Ben. Johnson. . . . London, Printed 
for Andrew Crook, and are to be sold at the Green Dragon in 
St. Pauls Church-yard: And Henry Broom at the Gun and 
Ivy-lane. 1658. 

Edward Phillips, 1658. 

. . . There will be occasion to peruse the Works of our ancient 
Poets, as Geffry Chaucer, the greatest in his time, for the honour 
of our Nation; as also some of our more Modern Poets, as 
Spencer, Sidny, Draiton, Daniel, with our reformers of the Scene, 
Johnson, Shakespear, Beaumont, and Fletcher, and among the 
renowned Antiquaries, Camhden, Lambard, Spelman, Seldon, and 
divers others. 

[The New World of English Words, 1658, sig. as.] 

Edward Phillips, 1658. 

Q. Why is Ben Johnson's chair at Robert Wilson's Tipling- 
house in the Strand? 

A, To signifie that Poets in these hard times, though they 
should invoke the nine Muses, may still want nine-pence to 
purchase a pint of Canary. 

[Mysteries of Love and Eloquence, or, the Arts of Wooing and Compli- 
menting, &c., 1658, p. 174.] 

S. W., 1658. 

To his ingenious Friend, the Author, on his incomparable Poems. 
To thee compar'd, our English Poets all stop. 
And vail their Bonnets, even Shakespear' s Falstop. 



TO BEN JONSON 317 

Chaucer the first of all wasn't worth a farthing, 
Lidgate, and Huntingdon, with Gaffer Harding. 
Non-sense the Faery Queen, and Michael Drayton, 
Like Babel's Balm; or Rhymes of Edivard Paiton, 
Waller, and Turlingham, and brave George Sandys, 
Beaumont, and Fletcher, Donne, Jeremy Candish, 
Herbert, and Cleeveland, and all the train noble 
Are Saints-hells unto thee, and thou great Bow-hell. 
Ben Johnson 'tis true shew'd us how he could hit 
Each humour now; and then be out of it; 
Nor could he alwayes keep his Muse a gallop, 
With curb, or whip, but sometimes had but small hope. 

[Prefixed to Samuel Austin's Naps upon Parnassus, 1658, sig. B 5. In 
a marginal gloss to the word "Falstop" the writer says: "It 
should have been Falstafi, if the rhym.e had permitted it."] 

Sir Aston Cokaine, 1658. 

He [Charles Cotton] is an able Lad indeed, and likes 
Arcadian Pastorals, and (willing) strikes 
A Plaudite to th' Epilogues of those 
Happy Inventions Shakesphere did compose. 
Beaumont and Fletcher he will listen to, 
And allow Johnsons method high and true. 
[Small Poems of Divers Sorts, 1658, p. 27.] 

Title-page, 1659. 

The Blind-Beggar of Bednal-Green, with The merry humor 
of Tom Strowd the Norfolk Yeoman, as it was divers times 
publickly acted by the Princes Servants. Written by John 
Day. London, Printed for R. Pollard, and Tho. Dring, and 
are to be sold at the Ben lohnsons Head, behind the Exchange, 
and the George in Fleetstreet, near Saint Dunstans Church. 
1659. 

Edmund Gayton, 1659. 
My Father Ben, discoursing of this grunter. 
In that so famous play, where old Sir Punter, 
Being turned Orlando for the losse of's dog. 
Did lug the jeering buffon like a hog: 



3l8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

There in that celebrated comedy 

(Whether my Father Ben, as well as I, 

Met with Arabian Comments) the smart play 

Doth patly what my ancient Authors say. 

There's wit to th' height, read it, and try our dogma, 

Whether from both the places we a Hog may 

Not all alike commend. . . . 

[The Art of Longevity, or a DicEteticall Institution, 1659, chapter xv; 
the passage cited alludes to Every Man out of his Humour, Act v, 
where Carlo Buffone delivers an elaborate praise of pork.] 

Humphrey Moseley, 1659. 

Nor are we without a sufficient President in Works of this 

nature, and relating to an Author who confessedly is reputed the 

Glory of the English Stage (whereby you'll know I mean Ben: 

Johnson) and in a play also of somewhat a resembling name. 

The Sad Shepherd, extant in his Third Volume; which though it 

wants two entire acts, was nevertheless judg'd a Piece of too 

much worth to be laid aside, by the Learned and Honorable Sir 

Kenelme Digby, who published that Volume. 

[Address to the Reader, before Suckling's The Sad One, in Last Remains 
of Sir John Suckling, 1659.] 

Anonymous, 1659. 

To the Readers. 
. . . And yet there are a sort (one would wonder there should 
be) who think they lessen this Author's worth when they speak 
the relation he had to Ben. Johnson. We very thankfully em- 
brace the Objection, and desire they would name any other 
Master that could better teach a man to write a good Play. The 
materials must flow from all parts of the world; but the Art and 
Composition come onely from Books and such living Masters as 
that our great Laureat; And for this puipose we have here prefixt 
Be7i Johnson's own testimony to his Servant our Author; we 
grant it is (according to Ben's own nature and custome) magis- 
terial enough; and who looks for other, since he said to Shake- 
spear — / shall draza envy on thy name (by writing in his praise) 



TO BEN JONSON 319 

and threw in his face — small Latine and less Greek; but also told 
Selden himself (as if Ben's conscience checked him for being too 
good natured in commending others.) 



It seems (what ere we think) Ben thought it diminution for no 
man to attend upon his Muse. And were not already the An- 
tients too much trod on, we could name famous wits who served 
far meaner Masters than Ben Johnson. For, none vers'd in 
Letters but know the wise ^sop was born and bred a wretched 
slave; Lucian a Stonecutter; Virgil himself begotten by a 
Basketmaker, born in a ditch, and then preferred to an under 
Groom in the stable; nay, (to instance in our Authors own 
order) NcBvius the Comedian a Captains mans man; Plaiitus 
servant to a poor Baker, Terence a slave as well as Msop; and 
(which for our purpose is most of all) our Authors own Master 
handled the Troivel before he grew acquainted with Seianus or 
Cataline. But enough of this, lest pleading for the Author, 
make him seem to want an Apology. 

[Prefixed to Five New Playes, by Richard Brome, 1659.] 

William Richards, 1659. 

. . . His Waste did shun 

All Smiles, b'ing swoln beyond Ben-John-Sons Tun. 

[The Christmas Ordinary, acted at Oxford 1659, printed 1682. See J. 
Q. Adams, " The Authorship of Two Seventeenth Century Plays," 
Modern Language Notes, xxii, 135.] 

Thomas Pecke, 1659. 

To the egregious poet, Sir Will. Davenant. 
That Ben, whose Head, deserv'd the Roscian Bayes; 
Was the first gave the Name of Works, to Playes: 
You, his Corrival, in this Waspish Age; 
Are more than Atlas to the fainting Stage. 
Your Bonus Genius, you this way display : 
And to delight us, is your Opera. 
[Parnassi Puerperium, 1659, p. 180.] 



320 



AN ALLUSION-BOOK 



Sir Henry Herbert, about 1660. 

Names of the plays acted hy the Red Bull actors. 



The Humorous Lieutenant. 

Beggars Bushe. 

Tamer Tamed. 

The Traytor. 

Loves Cruelty. 

Wit without Money. 

Maydes Tragedy. 

Philaster. 

Rollo Duke of Normandy. 

Claricilla. 



Elder Brother. 

The Silent Woman. 

The Weddinge. 

Henry the Fourthe. 

Merry Wives of Windsor. 

Kinge and no Kinge. 

Othello. 

Dumboys. 

The Unfortunate Lovers. 

The Widow. 



[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 82.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1660. 

November '60. This is a List of plays acted by the Kings 
Companie at the Red Bull and the new house in Gibbon's Tennis 
Court near Clare Market. 



Monday the 5. Nouember. '60. 
Tusday the 6. No. 
Wensday the 7. No. 
Thursday the 8. No. 

Friday the 9. No. 
Saterday the 10. No. 
Monday the 12. No. 
Tusday the 13. No. 
Wensday the 14. No. 
Thursday the 15. No. 
Friday the 16. No. 
Saterday the 17. No. 
monday the 19. No. 
Tusday the 20. No. 
Wensday the 21. No. 
Thursday the 22. No. 
Friday the 23. No. 



Wit without money. 
The Traitor. 
The Beggers Bushe. 
Henry the fourthe. First Play. 
Acted at the new Theatre. 
The merry wives of W^indsor. 
The sylent Woman. 
[Loues Mistery.] 
Loue lies a Bleedinge. 

Loues Cruelty. 

The widowe. 

The mayds Tragedy. 

The Unfortunate Louers. 

The Beggars Bushe. 

The Scornfull Lady. 

The Trayter. 

The Elder Brother. 



[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 116.] 



TO BEN JONSON 32 1 

Samuel Pepys, 1660. 

June 6th. . . . My letters tell me . . . that the two Dukes 
do haunt the Park much, and that they were at a play, Madame 
Epicene, the other day. 

* * * * 

December 4th. . . . After dinner Sir Tho. [Crew] and my Lady 
to the Playhouse to see The Silent Woman. 
[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Edward Gower, 1660. 

Letter to Sir Richard Leveson, November 20, 1660. 
. . . Yesternight the King, Queen, Princes, &. supped at the 
Duke d'Albemarle's, where they had the Silent Woman acted 
in the Cock-pit, where on Sunday he had a sermon. 

[MSS. of the Duke of Sutherland, vol. viii; in the Fifth Report of the 
Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, 1876, p. 200. Cf. 
Pepys's Diary, November 20, 1660.] 

Edward Barwick, 1660. 

To my ingenious Friend, Mr. Thomas Forde, 
on His Loves Labyrinth. 
. . . Proceed then Worthy Friend, and may thy Fame, 
Like Laureat Johnson, ever speak thy Name. 
[Prefixed to Thomas Forde's Love's Labyrinth, 1660.] 

Sir Richard Baker, 1660. 

Of Men of Note in his [Charles I] Time. 
Poetry was never more Resplendent, nor never more Graced; 
wherein Johnson, Silvester, Shakspere, Beaumont, Fletcher, Shirley, 
Broom, Massinger, Cartwrite, Randolph, Cleaveland, Quarles, 
Carew, Davenant, and Sucklin, not only far excelled their own 
Countrymen, but the whole World besides. 

[A Chronicle of the Kings of England, Whereunto is now added in this 
Third Edition the reign of King Charles I, 1660, p. 503. See also 
the entry "Sir Richard Baker, 1665."] 



322 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1660. 

An Elegie. 
I now conceive the scope of their designe, 
Which is with one consent to bring and burn 
Contributary incense on his urn, 
Where each mans love and fancy shall be try'd, 
As when great Johnson or brave Shakespear dyed. 

[Elegies Sacred to the Memory of R. Lovelace, Esq., 1660; in Lucasta. 
The Poems of Richard Lovelace, ed. W. Carew Hazlitt, 1864, p. 
287.] 

Sir Henry Herbert, 1661. 

[Plays Acted by the King's Company in Gibbon's 
Tennis Court, 166 1.] 

* * * * 
Uittoria Corumbana. ii. [Decemb.] 
The Cuntry Captaine. 13. [Decemb.] 
The Alchymist. 16. Decemb. 
Bartholomew Faire. 18. Decemb. 
The Spanishe Curate. 20. Decemb. 
The Tamer Tamed. 23. De. 
Aglaura. 28. De. 
Bussy Dambois 30. De. 

[The Dramatic Records of Sir Henry Herbert, ed. J. Q. Adams, p. 117.] 

Samuel Pepys, 1661. 

January ytli. . . . Tom and I and my wife to the Theatre, 
and there saw TJte Silent Woman. The first time that ever I 
did see it, and it is an excellent play. Among other things here, 
Kinaston, the boy, had the good turn to appear in three shapes: 
first, as a poor woman in ordinary clothes, to please Morose; 
then in fine clothes, as a gallant, and in them was clearly the 
prettiest woman in the whole house, and lastly, as a man; and 
then likewise did appear the handsomest man in the house. 

* * * * 

January 8th. . . . After dinner I took my Lord Hinchinbroke 
and Mr. Sidney to the Theatre, and shewed them The Widow, 



TO BEN JONSON 323 

an indifferent good play, but wronged by the women being to 
seek in their parts. 

* * * * 

May 25th. . . . Then to the Theatre, where I saw a 
piece of The Silent Woman, which pleased me. 

* * * * 

June 8th. . . . Then I went to the Theatre and there saw 
Bartholomeiv Faire, the first time it was acted now-a-days. It 
is a most admirable play and well acted, but too much prophane 
and abusive. 

* * * * 

June 22nd. . . . Then to the Theatre, The Alchymist, which 
^s a most incomparable play. 

* * * * 

June 2'/th. ... At noon home, and then with my Lady 
Batten, Mrs. Rebecca Allen, Mrs. Thompson, &c., two coaches 
of us, we went and saw Bartholomew Fayre acted very well. 

* * * * 

August 14th. . . . After dinner. Captain Ferrers and I to the 
Theatre, and there saw The Alchymist. 

* * * * 

September yth. . . . My wife and I took them to the Theatre, 
where we seated ourselves close by the King, and Duke of York, 
and Madame Palmer, which was great content; and, indeed, I 
can never enough admire her beauty. And here was Bartholomew 
Fayre, with the puppet-show, acted to-day, which had not been 
these forty years (it being so satyricall against Puritanism, they 
durst not till now, which is strange they should already dare to 
do it, and the King do countenance it), but I do never a whit 
like it the better for the puppets, but rather the worse. Thence 
home with the ladies, it being by reason of our staying a great 
while for the King's coming, and the length of the play, near 
nine o'clock before it was done. 

* * * * 

November 12th. . . . My wife and I to Bartholomew Fayre, 
with puppets which I had seen once before, and the play without 



324 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

puppets often, but though I love the play as much as ever I did, 
yet I do not like the puppets at all, but think it to be a lessening 
to it. 

[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Anonymous, 1661. 

To the Reader. 

. . . When thou viewest the Title, and readest the sign of 

Ben Johnson's head , on the back-side of the Exchange, and the 

Angel in Cornhil, where they are sold, inquire who could better 

furnish the with such sparkling copies of Wit than those. . . . 

[Prefixed to Wit and Drollery, by Sir John Mennes, James Smith, Sir 
William Davenant, and John Donne, 1661. There is a passing 
allusion to Jonson on sig. B4.] 

John Ward, 1661-63. 

Shakespeare, Drayton, and Ben Jonson, had a merie meeting, 

and itt seems drank too hard, for Shakespear died of a feavour 

there contracted. 

[Diary of the Rev. John Ward, A. M., Vicar of Stratford-upon-Avon, 
1839, p. 183.] 

Francis Kirkman, 1662. 

The Bookseller to the Reader. 
And yet our modesty will make us vail 
To worthy Sidney, nor can we bear sail 
Against these fam'd Dramaticks, one past age 
Was blest with Johnson, who so grac't the stage, 
The thrice renowned Shakespear, and the rare 
Ingenuous Fletcher. These past envy are 
Much more past imitation only we 
Would second be o'th'first, last of the three. 
(Prefixed to The English Lovers, by L D., Gent., 1662.] 

Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, 1662. 

General Prologue to all my Playes. 
As for Ben. Johnsons brain, it was so strong. 
He could conceive, or judge, what's right, what's wrong: 



TO BEN JONSON 325 

His Language plain, significant, and free. 
And in the English Tongue, the Masterie: 
Yet Gentle Shakespear had a fluent Wit, 
Although less Learning, yet full well he writ; 
For all his Playes were writ by Natures light, 
Which gives his Readers, and Spectators sight. 
But Noble Readers, do not think my Playes 
Are such as have been writ in former daies; 
As Johnson, Shakespear, Beaumont, Fletcher writ; 
Mine want their Learning, Reading, Language, Wit. 
The Latin phrases I could never tell. 
But Johnson could, which made him write so well. 
[Prefixed to her Playes, 1662.] 

Rowland Watkyns, 1662. 

The Poet's Condition. 
A poet, and rich? that seems to be 
A paradox most strange to me. 
A poet, and poor? that maxim's true, 
If we observe the canting crue. 
What lands had Randolph, or great Ben, 
That plow'd much paper with his pen? 
[Poems without Fictions, 1662.] 

John Wilson, 1662. 

We've no sententious sir, no grave Sir Poll, 

No little pug nor devil, — bless us all! 

[Prologue to The Cheats, written in 1662, printed in 1664; the allusion 
seems to be to Jonson's The Devil is an Ass. The characters 
Bilboe and Titerue Tu seem to be copied after Subtle and Face 
in Jonson's Alchemist. Cf. the entry "John Wilson, 1664."] 

John Downes, 1663. 

The following is a list of the principal old stock-plays acted by 
His Majesty's Company of Comedians in Drury-Lane, beginning 
April 8, 1663, the date of the opening of the New Theatre in 
Drury-Lane :- 

The Humorous Lieutenant. 
Rule a Wife, and have a Wife. 



326 



AN ALLUSION-BOOK 



The Fox. 

The Silent Woman. 
The Alchemist. 
The Maids Tragedy. 
King and no King. 
Rollo, Duke of Normandy. 
The Scornful Lady. 
The Elder Brother. 
The Moor of Venice. 
King Henry the Fourth. 
The Maiden Queen. 
Mock Astrologer. 
Julius Caesar. 
Note, That these being their Principal Old Stock Plays; yet 
in this Interval from the Day they begun, there were divers 
others Acted. 

Cataline's Conspiracy. 

The Merry Wives of Windsor. 

The Opportunity. 

The Example. 

The Jovial Crew. 

Philaster. 

The Cardinal. 

Bartholomew- Fair. 

The Chances. 

The Widow. 
As The DeviVs an Ass. 

Argulus and Parthenia. 

Every Man in his Humour. 

Every Man out of Humour. 

The Carnival. 

Sejanus. 

The Merry Devil of Edmimton. 

Vittoria Corumhona. 

The Beggars Bush. 

The Tray tor. 

Titus Andronicus. 



TO BEN JONSON 327 

These being Old Plays, were Acted but now and then; yet 
being well Perform'd, were very Satisfactory to the Town. 

[Roscius Anglicamis, 1708, pp. 3-9.] 

Samuel Pepys, 1663. 

July 22nd. ... So down to Deptford, reading Ben Jonson's 
Devil is an asse. 



December loth. To St. Paul's Church Yard, to my bookseller's. 
... I could not tell whether to lay out my money for books of 
pleasure, as plays, which my nature was most earnest in; but 
at last, after seeing Chaucer, Dugdale's History of Pauls, Stow's 
London, Gesner, History of Trent, besides Shakespeare, Jonson, 
and Beaumont's plays, I at last chose Dr. Fuller's Worthys, the 
Cabbala or Collections of Letters of State, and a little book, 
Delices de HoUande, with another little book or two, all of good 
use or serious pleasure; and Hudibras, both parts, the book 
now in greatest fashion for drollery, though I cannot, I confess, 
see enough where the wit lies. 

[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Anonymous, 1663. 

So, as well the best men as their best actions, are still waited 
on by (those brats of Ignorance or Malice) detraction and 
calumnies. For the confirming the truth whereof, I shall need 
no further to search the Rolls of Antiquity, than to look back 
upon those times, in which Johnson, (that Son of Wit) did by 
the clear and piercing raies of his wit and judgment, dissipate 
all mists of Ignorance, and Reform the Errors of the Stage; 
and yet, though he shin'd so bright in Wit's Horizon, were there 
not wanting some barren clods of dull Earth, who, being un- 
capable of receiving the least ray of wit themselves from his 
quickening influence, (as Niobe preferr'd her own earthly brood 
before Apollo and Diana the celestial Twins of Latona) dar'd 
prefer the spurious Issues of their own Brain before this great 
Apollo, and endeavour to eclipse the glory of his heavenly 
endowments; but with how bad successe they attempted it, his 



328 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

incomparable Play (the Poetaster) made in derision of them, 
sufficiently declares. And although like a petty inconsiderable 
Star, I could not expect to be taken notice of in the presence of 
that glorious Sun, nor dare to entertain such high conceptions 
of my self, as to hope to be named with him; yet, I'le take the 
confidence to declare to the World, that though my weak abilities 
can hold no proportion with those rich gifts of Nature of which 
he was Master, yet I can glory I resemble him in this, that I am 
assaulted with the Ignorance of partial and prejudicial Readers, 
who have bespattered with the blackest Obloquy they can, a 
Piece lately publisht by me. 

[The Dedication prefixed to The Unfortunate Usurper, 1663.] 

R. Stapylton, 1663. 

Beaumont and Fletcher have writ their last Scenes: 
No Johnson's Art, no Shakespear's wit in Nature, 
For men are shrunk in Brain as well as Stature. 
[Prologue to The Slighted Maid, 1663.] 

W. K., 1663. 

On the Composure of Love a la Mode. 
All just Wits agree 
In commendation of this Comedie. 
And for its worth, I thus far dare ingage, 
Since the revival of the English Stage ; 
No modern Muse hath yet produced such: 
Were Johnson living, he would swear as much. 
[Prefixed to Love a la Mode, 1663.] 

J. Kelyne, 1663. 

On the Incomparable Love a la Mode. 
Were Shakespeare, Fletcher, or renowned Be7i 
Alive, they'd yield to this more happie pen 
Those lawrells that bedeckt their brows; and say. 
Love a la modes the best-accomplish'd Play. 
[Prefixed to Love d, la Mode, 1663.] 



TO BEN JONSON 329 

Abraham Cowley, 1663. 

Aur[elia\. Bless us! what humming and hawing will be i' this 
house! what preaching, and houling, and fasting, and eating 
among the Saints! Their first pious work will be to banish 
Fletcher and Ben Johnso7i out o' the Parlour, and bring in their 
rooms Martin Mar-Prelate, and Posies of Holy Hony-suckles, 
and a Saws-box for a Wounded Conscience, and a Bundle of 
Grapes from Canaan. 

[Cutter of Coleman Street, 1663; ed. A. R. Waller, 1906, ii, 296.] 

Robert Boyle, 1663. 

It is not always so despicable a piece of service as may be 
imagined, to endear, by particular considerations, an excellent 
book ... to a person capable of discovering and making use 
of the rare things it contains. To which purpose I might offer 
you divers more serious instances, but shall only at present (a 
little to divert you) take this occasion to tell you, that Ben. 
Johnson, passionately complaining to a learned acquaintance of 
mine, that a man of the long robe, whom his wit had raised to 
great dignities and power, had refused to grant him some very 
valuable thing he had begged of him, concluded with saying, 
with an upbraiding tone and gesture to my friend: Why, the 
ungrateful wretch knows very well, that before he come to preferment, 
I was the man that made him relish Horace. 

[Some Considerations Touching the Style of the Holy Scriptures, 1663, 
the Epistle Dedicatory; in Robert Boyle's Works, ed. Sharrock, 
1772, ii, 249.] 

John Dryden, 1663. 

Our poet yet protection hopes from you, 

But bribes you not with anything that's new; 

Nature is old, which poets imitate, 

And, for wit, those, that boast their own estate, 

Forget Fletcher and Ben before them went, 

Their elder brothers, and that vastly spent; 

So much, 'twill hardly be repair'd again, 

Not, though supplied with all the wealth of Spain. 

[Prologue to The Wild Gallant as it was first acted. According to 
Malone, it was first acted in February, 1662-63.] 



330 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Samuel Pepys, 1664. 

June ist. . . . Thence to W. Joyce's, where by appointment 
I met my wife (but neither of them at home), and she and I to 
the King's house, and saw The Silent Woman; but methought 
not so well done or so good a play as I formerly thought it to 
be, or else I am now-a-days out of humour. Before the play 
was done, it fell such a storm of hayle, that we in the middle of 
the pit were fain to rise; and all the house in a disorder, and so 
my wife and I out and got into a little alehouse, and staid there 
an hour after the play was done before we could get a coach, 
which at last we did. 

* * :(: * . 

August 2nd. . . . Thence to the King's play-house, and there 
saw Bartholomew Fayre, which do still please me; and is, as it 
is acted, the best comedy in the world, I believe. 

* * * * 

August 4th. . . . Here we hear that Clun, one of their best 
actors, was, the last night, going out of towne (after he had 
acted the Alchymist, wherein was one of his best parts that he 
acts) to his countryhouse, set upon and murdered; one of the 
rogues taken, an Irish fellow. 

* * * * 

December i8th (Lord's day). . . . To church, where, God for- 
give me! I spent most of my time in looking [on] my new Morena 
at the other side of the church, an acquaintance of Pegg Pen's. 
So home to dinner, and then to my chamber to read Ben Johnson's 
Cataline, a very excellent piece. 

[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Robert Waring, 1664. 

Amoris Effigies . . . praefigitur ejusdem Antoris Carmen 

Lapidarium Memoriae Vatum Principis, Ben Jonsoni sacratum. 

London, 1664. 

[This is the third edition; the poem on Jonson appears in all the later 
editions, and in the English translation of 1680. Waring contrib- 
uted the poem to Jonso7tus Virbius, 1638.] 



TO BEN JONSON 331 

Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle, 1664. 
I never heard any man read well but my husband, and I have 
heard him say, he never heard any man read well but Ben 
Jonson, and yet he hath heard many in his time. 
[Philosophical Letters, 1664, p. 362.] 

William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, 1664. 

To the Lady Marchioness of Newcastle, On Her Book of Poems. 

I saw your Poems, and then Wish'd them mine, 

Reading the Richer Dressings of each line; 

Your New-horn, Sublime Fancies, and such store, 

May make our Poets blush, and Write no more: 

Nay, Spencers Ghost will haunt you in the Night, 

And Johnson rise, full fraught with Venom's Spight; 

Fletcher, and Beaumont, troubl'd in their Graves, 

Look out some Deeper, and forgotten Caves; 

And Gentle Shakespear weeping, since he must 

At best, be Buried, now, in Chaucer s Dust: 

Thus dark Oblivion covers their each Name, 

Since you have Robb'd them of their Glorious Fame. 

[Prefixed to Poems and Phancies, by the Lady Marchioness of New- 
castle, 1664. The verses do not appear in the first edition of 1653.] 

John Wilson, 1664. 

The Author to the Reader. 
To be short, . . . there is hardly anything left to write upon 
but what either the ancients or moderns have some way or other 
touch 'd on. Did not Apuleius take the rise of his Golden Ass 
from Lucian's Lucius? And Erasmus his Alcumistica from 
Chaucer's Canon's Yeoman's Tale? And Ben Johnson his more 
happy Alchymist from both? 

[The Cheats, 1664. Cf. the entry "John Wilson, 1662."] 

John Wilson, 1664. 

The Projectors: A Comedy. By John Wilson. . . . Lond. 

Printed for John Playfere at the White Lyon, in the Upper 

Walk of the New Exchange; and William Crook, at the Three 

Bibles, on Fleet-Bridge. 1665. 

[The title, and not a little of the plot, was suggested by Jonson's The 
Devil is an Ass.] 



332 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Richard Flecknoe, 1664. 

In this time were Poets and Actors in their greatest flourish, 
Johnson, Shakespear, with Beaumont and Fletcher, their Poets, 
and Field and Biirhidge their Actors. 

For Playes, Shakespear was one of the first, who inverted the 
Dramatick Stile, from dull History to quick Comedy, upon 
whom Johnson refin'd; and Beaumont and Fletcher first writ in 
the Heroick way, upon whom Suckling and others endeavoured 
to refine agen; one saying wittily of his Aglaura, that 'twas 
full of fine flowers, but they seem'd rather stuck, then growing 
there; as another of Shakespear s writings, that 'twas a fine 
Garden, but it wanted weeding. 

There are few of our English Playes (excepting onely some 
few of Johnsons) without some faults or other. 
* * * * 

To compare our English Dramatick Poets together (without 
taxing them) Shakespear excelled in a natural Vein, Fletcher in 
Wit, and Johnson in Gravity and ponderousness of Style; whose 
onely fault was, he was too elaborate; and had he mixt less 
erudition with his Playes, they had been more pleasant and 
delightful then they are. Comparing him with Shakespear, you 
shall see the difference betwixt Nature and Art; and with 
Fletcher, the difference betwixt Wit and Judgement: Wit being 
an exuberant thing, like Nilus, never more commendable then 
when it overflowes; but Judgement a stayed and reposed thing, 
always containing it self within its bounds and limits. 

[A Discourse of the English Stage, prefixed to Love's Kingdom, a Pastoral 
Tragi-comedy, 1664, sig. G5.] 

Sir George Etheredge, 1664. 

For such our fortune is, this barren age, 
That faction now, not wit, supports the stage; 
Wit has, like painting, had her happy flights. 
And in peculiar ages reach'd her heights, 
Though now declined: yet, could some able pen 
Match Fletcher's nature, or the art of Ben, 
The old and graver sort would scare allow 
Those plays were good, because we writ them now. 



TO BEN JONSON 333 

Our author therefore begs you would forget, 
Most reverend judges, the records of wit; 
And only think upon the modern way 
Of writing, whilst you're censuring his play. 
[The Prologue to The Comical Revenge, 1664.] 

John Tatham, 1664. 

Speech to the King. 

Pardon, not praise, great monarch, we implore, 

For showing you no better sights, nor more: 

We hope your majesty will not suppose 

You're with your Johnsons or your Inigoes; 

And though you make a court, you're in the city 

Whose vein is to be humble, though not witty. 

[London's Triumphs, 1664; in Lord Mayors' Pageants, Percy Society 
Publications, x, 72. The speech is copied verbatim by Thomas 
Jordan in his London's Resurrection, 1671.] 

Library Catalogue, before 1665. 

Anglici. 

Chaucers workes. Fol. 

Spensers fairy Queen Fol. 

Johnsons 2 vol: Fol. 

Beumont & Fletcher. Fol. 

Shakspeare. Fol. 

[Catalogue of the Library of Henry Fairfax (son of Thomas, Lord 
Fairfax), who died in 1665. Sloane MS, 1872, p. 81.] 

Samuel Pepys, 1665. 

January 14th. . . . Home to dinner, thence with my wife to 
the King's house, there to see Vulpone, a most excellent play; 
the best I think I ever saw, and well acted. 
[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Robert Wilde, 1665. 

Ten crowns to such a thing! Friend, 'tis a dose 
Able to raise dead Ben, or Davenant's nose; 
Able to make a courtier prove a friend. 
And more than all of them in victuals spend. 
[Poems of Robert Wilde, ed. J. Hunt, 1870, p. 64.] 



334 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, 1665. 

Whereas Thomas Williams, of the society of real and well- 
meaning Chymists hath prepaired certain Medicynes for the cure 
and prevention of the Plague ... to be disposed of at the 
Green Ball, within Ludgate, the Be7i Jonson's Head, near York- 
house, ... 

[Quoted from The Newes, August 24, 1665, in Larwood and Hotten's 
History of Signboards, 1866, p. 66.] 

Sir Richard Baker, 1665. 

Of Persons of Note in his [Charles I] time. 

Nor may we omit the Poets then famous, which excell'd, or 

equall'd, all that went before and shall come after; such as 

were Mr. Benjamin Johnson, Mr. Edmond Waller, Mr. Tho. 

Carew, Sir John Suckling, Mr. Thomas Randolph, Mr. Thomas 

Cartwright, Mr. Abraham Cowley, and Sir William Davenant; 

The first whereof by his profound Learning and Judgement, 

shewed a Poet was to be as well made as born: And the later 

though he wanted Learning, made as high and noble flights as 

fancy could advance without it. 

[A Chronicle of the Kings of England, 1665; in the edition of 1674, p. 
604A. See also the entry under "Sir Richard Baker, 1660."] 

I. B. and Alexander Brome, before 1666. 

An Epistle from a friend [I. B.] to the author, upbraiding 

him with his writing songs. 
Dear friend, believe't, my love has spurr'd me on 
For once to question thy discretion : 
And by right reason deifi'd by thee, 
I blame thee for the wrongs to poesy 
Thou hast committed, in betraying it 
To th'censure (not the judgment) of each wit: 
Wit, did I say? Things whose dull spirits are 
Apt only to applaud whate'er they hear, 
Be't good or good, so throated to their mind, 
Johnson and Taylor like acceptance find. 



TO BEN JONSON 335 

The Answer. 

. . . Johnson and Taylor, in their kind, were both 

Good wits, who Hkes one, need not t'other loath. 

Wit is like beauty. Nature made the Joan 

As well's the lady. We see every one 

Meets with a match. Neither can I expect 

Thou more my Muse than mistress should'st affect: 

And yet I like them both, if you don't too, 

Can't you let them alone for those that do? 

[The Poems of Alexander Brome, ed. Johnson and Chalmers, 1810, in 
The Works of the English Poets, from Chaucer to Cowper, vi, 678.] , 

Anonymous, 1666. 

Great MONK so thundered, that 'twas hard to say 
Whether 'twas He, or Fate, that got the Day. 

Smith sent such Thunderbolts as ne'r were made 
By Vulcan, since he first wrought of his Trade; 
Who gaz'd, but durst not come within a Shot, 
For fear his other Legg had gone to Pott 

Had Goffe, Ben Johnson, or had Shakespear been "] 

Spectators there, such Acts they should have seen, r 

As they ne'r acted in an English Scean: J 

[The Dutch Gazette, 1666.] 

Samuel Pepys, 1667. 

February gth. . . . Then went home and read a piece of a 
play. Every Man in his Humour, wherein is the greatest propriety 
of speech that ever I read in my life: and so to bed. 

* * * * 

April i6th. ... At noon home to dinner, and thence in 
haste to carry my wife to see the new play I saw yesterday 
[The Change of Crownes], she not knowing it. But there, contrary 
to expectation, find The Silent Woman. However, in; and 
there Knipp come into the pit. ... I never was more taken 
with a play than I am with this Silent Woman, as old as it is, 
and as often as I have seen it. There is more wit in it than 
goes to ten new plays. 

* * * * 



336 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

July joth. . . . But it is a pretty thing he told us how the 
King, once speaking of the Duke of York's being mastered by 
his wife, said to some of the company by, that he would go no 
more abroad with this Tom Otter (meaning the Duke of York) 
and his wife. Tom Killigrew, being by, answered, "Sir," says 
he, "pray which is the best for a man, to be a Tom Otter to his 
wife or to his mistress?" meaning the King's being so to my 
Lady Castlemayne. 

* * * * 

December yth. . . . She tells us that Catiline is likely to be 
soon acted, which I am glad to hear. 

December nth. . . . Here [in Westminster Hall] I met Rolt 
and Sir John Chichly, and Harris, the player, and there we 
talked of many things, and particularly of Catiline, which is to 
be suddenly acted at the King's house; and there all agree that 
it cannot be well done at that house, there not being good actors 
enow: and Burt acts Cicero, which they all conclude he will not 
be able to do well. The King gives them £500 for robes, there 
being, as they say, to be sixteen scarlett robes. 
[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

John Caryl, 1667. 

A formal Critick with his wise Grimace 
Will on the Stage appear with no ill grace: 
Most of that Trade in this Censorious Age 
Have little of the Poet, but his Rage: 
Perhaps old Johnson's Gall may fill their Pen; 
But where's the Judgment, and the salt of Ben? 
[Epilogue to The English Princess, 1667, p. 66.J 

John Dryden, 1667. 

He who writ this, not without pains and thought, 
From French and English theatres has brought 
The exactest rules, by which a play is wrought. 



TO BEN JONSON 337 

The unities of action, place, and time; 
The scenes unbroken; and a mingled chime 
Of Jonson's humour, with Corneille's rhyme. 

[Prologue to Secret Love, first acted in 1667, printed in 1668.] 

John Dryden, 1667. 

Warn[er]. Why, sir, are you stark mad? have you no grain 
of sense left? He's gone! Now is he as earnest in the quarrel 
as Cokes among the puppets; 'tis to no purpose, whatever I do 
for him. 

[Sir Martin Mar-All (acted 1667), V, i. The allusion is to Jonson's 
Bartholomew Fair, V, iii.] 

John Dryden, 1667. 

As when a tree's cut down, the secret root 

Lives under ground, and thence new branches shoot; 

So, from old Shakespeare's honour'd dust, this day 

Springs up and buds a new- reviving play: 

Shakespeare, who (taught by none) did first impart 

To Fletcher wit, to labouring Jonson art. 

He, monarch-like, gave those his subjects, law; 

And is that nature which they paint and draw. 

Fletcher reached that which on his heights did grow. 

Whilst Jonson crept, and gathered all below. 

This did his love, and this his mirth digest: 

One imitates him most, the other best. 

If they have since out-writ all other men, 

'Tis with the drops which fell from Shakespeare's pen. 

[Prologue to The Tempest; or The Enchanted Island, by Dryden and 
Davenant, acted in 1667, The Prologue appears to have been 
written by Dryden.] 

Elkanah Settle, 1667. 

Poets ought to write with the same spirit Caesar fought: 
IndifT'rent Writers are contemn'd for now There grow no Lawrels 
for a common brow: None but great Ben, Shakespear, or whom 
this Age Has made their Heirs, succeed now on the Stage. 
[Prologue to Cambyses, King of Persia, acted in 1667.] 
23 



338 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, about 1668. 

Elegy on Sir William Davenant. 

First, in the broad Elysian streets, 
He his old father Jonson meets: 
Then him his cousin Shakespeare greets; 
But his friend Suckling lent him sheets. 

Cowley a fair apartment keeps: 

Receiving him with joy he weeps; 

Into his bed Sir William creeps, 

And now in Abraham's bosom sleeps. 
[Reprinted in Huth's Inedited Poetical Miscellanies, 1870, from a tran- 
script written on some of the flyleaves of a copy of Denham's Poems, 
1668.] 

Samuel Pepys, 1668. 

January nth. . . . Knepp came and sat by us. . . . She told 
me also of a play shortly coming upon the Stage, of Sir Charles 
Sidly's, which, she thinks, will be called The Wandering Ladys, 
a comedy that, she thinks, will be most pleasant; and also 
another play, called The Duke of Lerma; besides Catelin, which 
she thinks, for want of the clothes which the King promised 
them, will not be acted for a good while. 

February 22nd. . . . Thence to the Duke's playhouse, and 
there saw Albumazar, an old play, this the second time of acting. 
It is said to have been the ground of B. Jonson's Alchymist; 
but, saving the ridiculousnesse of Angell's part, which is called 
Trinkilo, I do not see any thing extraordinary in it, but was 
indeed weary of it before it was done. 

* * * * 

September 4th. . . . To the Fair . . . my wife having a mind 
to see the play Bartholomew Fayre, with puppets. Which we 
did, and it is an excellent play; the more I see it, the more I 
love the wit of it; only the business of abusing the Puritans 
begins to grow stale, and of no use, they being the people that, 
at last, will be found the wisest. 



TO BEN JONSON 339 

September 18th. ... So to the King's house, and saw a piece 
of Henry the Fourth; at the end of the play thinking to have 
gone abroad with Knepp, but it was too late, and she to get her 
part against to-morrow, in The Silent Woman, and so I only set 
her at home, and away home myself. 

* * * * 

September igth. . . . Then to the King's playhouse, and there 
saw The Silent Woman; the best comedy, I think, that ever 
was wrote; and sitting by Shadwell the poet, he was big with 
admiration of it. 

* * * * 

December igth. Up, and to the ofifice, where all the morning, 
and at noon, eating very little dinner, my wife and I by hackney 
to the King's playhouse, and there, the pit being full, sat in a 
box above, and saw Catiline s Conspiracy, yesterday being the 
first day: a play of much good sense and words to read, but 
that do appear the worst upon the stage, I mean, the least 
diverting, that ever I saw any, though most fine in clothes; 
and a fine scene of the Senate, and of a fight, that ever I saw in 
my life. But the play is only to be read, and therefore home, 
with no pleasure at all. 

[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

Richard Flecknoe, 1668. 

Sir William D'Avenanfs Voyage to the Other World. 

.... Nor was he less amaz'd than they, to find never a 

poet there, antient nor modern, whom in some sort or other he 

had not disoblig'd by his discommendations; as Homer, Virgil, 

Tasso, Spencer, and especially Ben. Johnson. . . . Nay, even 

Shakespear, whom he thought to have found his greatest friend, 

was so much offended with him as any of the rest, for so spoiling 

and mangling of his plays. 

[Sir William D'Avenanls Voyage to the Other World: With his Adventures 
in the Poets Elizium, 1668.] 

Anonymous, 1668. 

An Elegy Upon the Death of Sir William Davenant. 
Now Davenant is arriv'd, the Fields and Plains 
Resound unto his Welcome Lofty Strains. 



340 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

For every Poet there it shall be free 

To raise his Joy unto an Extasie. 

Imagine him encircled in a Sphere 

Of those Great Souls who once admired him here : 

First, Johnson doth demand a share in him, 

For both their Muses whip'd the Vice of time: 

Then Shakespear next a Brothers part doth claim, 

Because their quick Inventions were the same. 

Beaumont and Fletcher their Petitions joyn, 

This for clear Style, that for his deep Design: 

Tom Randolph asks a Portion 'monst the rest, 

Because they both were apt to break a Jest. 

Shirley and Massinger comes in for shares, 

For that his Language was refin'd as theirs : 

Laborious Heyivood, witty Brome, and Rowley, 

The learned Chapman, and ingenious Cowley, 

Ask their proportions as they've gain'd applause, 

By well observing the Drammatick Laws : 

Last, Sir John Suckling saith his Title lies, 

Because they both (were Knights, and) writ concise. 

JFrom a folio broadside, reprinted in A Little Ark, edited by G. 
Thorn-Drury.l 

John Dryden, 1668. 

An Essay of Dramatic Poesy. 
In the meantime, I must desire you to take notice, that the 
greatest man of the last age (Ben Jonson) was willing to give 
place to them in all things: he was not only a professed imitator 
of Horace, but a learned plagiary of all the others; you track 
him everywhere in their snow. If Horace, Lucan, Petronius 
Arbiter, Seneca, and Juvenal had their own from him, there are 
few serious thoughts which are new in him: you will pardon 
me, therefore, if I presume he loved their fashion, when he wore 
their clothes. But since I have otherwise a great veneration for 
him, and you, Eugenius, prefer him above all other poets, I will 
use no further argument to you than his example: I will produce 
before you Father Ben, dressed in all the ornaments and colours 



TO BEN JONSON 341 

of the ancients; you will need no other guide to our party, if 
you follow him ; and whether you consider the bad plays of our 
age, or regard the good plays of the last, both the best and worse 
of the modern poets will instruct you to admire the ancients. 

(P- 300.) 

* * * * 

Beaumont, Fletcher, and Jonson (who were only capable of 
bringing us to that degree of perfection which we have). (P. 316.) 

* * * * 

And you see in some places a little farce mingled, which is 
below the dignity of the other parts; and in this all our poets 
are extremely peccant: even Ben Jonson himself, in Sejanns 
and Catiline, has given us this olio of a play, this unnatural 
mixture of comedy and tragedy, which to me sounds just as 
ridiculously as the history of David with the merry humours of 

Golias. (P. 321.) 

* * * * 

But their humours [those of the French playwrights], if I 
may grace them with that name, are so thin sown, that never 
above one of them comes up in any play. I dare take upon me 
to find more variety of them in some one play of Ben Jonson's 
than in all theirs together: as he who has seen the Alchemist, 
The Silent Woman, or Bartholomew Fair, cannot but acknowledge 

with me. (P. 331.) 

* * * * 

And for your instance of Ben Jonson, who, you say, writ 
exactly without the help of rhyme; you are to remember, it is 
only an aid to a luxuriant fancy, which his was not: as he did 
not want imagination, so none ever said he had much to spare. 

(P. 336.) 

* * * * 

But for death, that it ought not to be represented, I have 
. . . the authority of Ben Jonson, who has forborne it in his 
tragedies; for both the death of Sejanus and Catiline are related ; 
though, in the latter, I cannot but observe one irregularity of 
that great poet; he has removed the scene in the same act, 
from Rome to Catiline's army, and from thence again to Rome; 



342 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

and besides, has allowed a very considerable time after Catiline's 
speech, for the striking of the battle, and the return of Petreius, 
who is to relate the event of it to the senate; which I should not 
animadvert on him, who was otherwise a painful observer of 
TO Trpeirov or the decorum of the stage, if he had not used extreme 
severity in his judgment on the incomparable Shakespeare for 
the same fault. (P. 337.) 

* * • * * 

I will take the pattern of a perfect play from Ben Jonson, 
who was a careful and learned observer of the dramatic laws, 
and from all his comedies I shall select The Silent Woman, of 
which I will make a short examen, according to those rules 
which the French observe. 

As Neander was beginning to examine The Silent Woman, 
Eugenius, earnestly regarding him; I beseech you, Neander, 
said he, gratify the company, and me in particular, so far as, 
before you speak of the play, to give us a character of the author; 
and tell us frankly your opinion, whether you do not think all 
writers, both French and English, ought to give place to him? 

I fear, replied Neander, that, in obeying your commands, I 
shall draw some envy on myself. Besides, in performing them, 
it will be first necessary to speak somewhat of Shakespeare and 
Fletcher, his rivals in poesy; and one of them, in my opinion, 
at least his equal, perhaps his superior. [Following this is a 
passage dealing with Shakespeare, which introduces the paragraph 
quoted below.] 

The consideration of this [Shakespeare's great and compre- 
hensive genius] made Mr. Hales of Eton say, that there was no 
subject of which any poet ever writ, but he would produce it 
much better done in Shakespeare; and however others are now 
generally preferred before him, yet the age wherein he lived, 
which had contemporaries with him, Fletcher and Jonson, never 
equalled them to him in their esteem: and in the last King's 
court, when Ben's reputation was at highest. Sir John Suckling, 
and with him the greater part of the cou rtiers, set our Shakespeare 
far above him. 



TO BEN JONSON 343 

Beaumont and Fletcher, of whom I am next to speak, had, 
with the advantage of Shakespeare's wit, which was their prece- 
dent, great natural gifts, improved by study; Beaumont especi- 
ally being so accurate a judge of plays, that Ben Jonson, while 
he lived, submitted all his writings to his censure, and 'tis thought, 
used his judgment in correcting, if not contriving, all his plots. 
What value he had for him, appears by the verses he writ to 
him; and therefore I need speak no further of it. The first 
play that brought Fletcher and him in esteem, was their Philaster; 
for before that, they had written two or three very unsuccessfully: 
as the like is reported of Ben Jonson, before he writ Every Man 
in his Humour. Their plots were generally more regular than 
Shakespeare's, especially those which were made before Beau- 
mont's death; and they understood and imitated the conversa- 
tion of gentlemen much better; whose wild debaucheries, and 
quickness of wit in repartees, no poet before them could paint 
as they have done. Humour, which Ben Jonson derived from 
particular persons, they made it not their business to describe: 
they represented all the passions very lively, but above all, 
love. . . . Their plays are now the most pleasant and frequent 
entertainments of the stage; two of theirs being acted through 
the year for one of Shakespeare's or Jonson 's: the reason is, 
because there is a certain gaiety in their comedies, and pathos 
in their more serious plays, which suits generally with all men's 
humours. Shakespeare's language is likewise a little obsolete, 
and Ben Jonson's wit comes short of theirs. 

As for Jonson, to whose character I am now arrived, if we 
look upon him while he was himself (for his last plays were but 
his dotages), I think him the most learned and judicious writer 
which any theatre ever had. He was a most severe judge of 
himself, as well as others. One cannot say he wanted wit, but 
rather that he was frugal of it. In his works you find little to 
retrench or alter. Wit and language, and humour also in some 
measure, we had before him; but something of art was wanting 
to the drama, till he came. He managed his strength to more 
advantage than any who preceded him. You seldom find him 
making love in any of his scenes, or endeavouring to move the 



344 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

passions; his genius was too sullen and saturnine to do it grace- 
fully, especially when he came after those who had performed 
both to such an height. Humour was his proper sphere; and 
in that he delighted most to represent mechanic people. He was 
deeply conversant in the ancients, both Greek and Latin, and 
he borrowed boldly from them : there is scarce a poet or historian 
among the Roman authors of those times, whom he has not 
translated in Sejanus and Catiline. But he has done his robberies 
so openly, that one may see he fears not to be taxed by any law. 
He invades authors like a monarch; and what would be theft 
in other poets, is only victory in him. With the spoils of these 
writers he so represents old Rome to us, in its rites, ceremonies, 
and customs, that if one of their poets had written either of his 
tragedies, we had seen less of it than in him. If there was any 
fault in his language, it was, that he weaved it too closely and 
laboriously, in his comedies especially: perhaps, too, he did a 
little too much Romanize our tongue, leaving the words which 
he translated almost as much Latin as he found them: wherein, 
though he learnedly followed their language, he did not enough 
comply with the idiom of ours. If I would compare him with 
Shakespeare, I must acknowledge him the more correct poet, 
but Shakespeare the greater wit. Shakespeare was the Homer, 
or father of our dramatic poets; Jonson was the Virgil, the 
pattern of elaborate writing; I admire him, but I love Shake- 
speare. To conclude of him; as he has given us the most 
correct plays, so in the precepts which he has laid down in his 
Discoveries, we have as many and profitable rules for perfecting 
the stage, as any wherewith the French can furnish us. 

Having thus spoken of the author, I proceed to the examination 
of his comedy, The Silent Woman. . . . (Pp. 343-48.) 
* * * * 

And this, sir, calls to my remembrance the beginning of your 
discourse, where you told us we should never find the audience 
favourable to this kind of writing, till we could produce as good 
plays in rhyme as Ben Jonson, Fletcher, and Shakespeare had 
writ out of it. But it is to raise envy to the living to compare 
them with the dead. They are honoured, and almost adored 



TO BEN JONSON 345 

by us, as they deserve; neither do I know any so presumptuous 
of themselves as to contend with them. Yet give me leave to 
say thus much, without injury to their ashes, that not only we 
shall never equal them, but they could never equal themselves, 
were they to rise and write again. We acknowledge them our 
fathers in wit, but they have ruined their estates themselves, 
before they came to their children's hands. There is scarce an 
humour, a character, or any kind of plot, which they have not 
used. All comes sullied or wasted to us: and were they to 
entertain this age, they could not now make so plenteous treat- 
ments out of such decayed fortunes. This therefore will be a 
good argument to us either not to write at all or to attempt some 
other way. There is no bays to be expected in their walks: 
tentanda via est, qua me quoque possum tollere humo. (P. 366.) 

[An Essay of Dramatic Poesy, 1668; the page references are to The 
Works of John Dryden, ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1892, vol. xv. 
The passages cited are the more significant ones, but the student 
interested in Jonson should examine the entire essay.] 

John Dryden, 1668. 

In Bartholomew Fair, or the lowest kind of comedy, that degree 
of heightening is used, which is proper to set off that subject: It 
is true the author was not there to go out of prose, as he does in 
his higher arguments of comedy. The Fox and Alchemist; yet he 
does so raise his matter in that prose, as to render it delightful; 
which he could never had performed, had he only said or done 
those very things, that are daily spoken or practised in the fair: 
for then the fair itself would be as full of pleasure to an ingenious 
person as the play, which we manifestly see it is not. But he 
hath made an excellent lazar of it; the copy is of price, though 
the original be vile. You see in Catiline and Sejanus where the 
argument is great, he sometimes ascends to verse, which shows 
he thought it not unnatural in serious plays; and had his genius 
been as proper for rhyme as it was for honour, or had the age in 
which he lived attained to as much knowledge in verse as ours, 
it is probable he would have adorned those subjects with that 
kind of writing. (P. 296.) 



346 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

But he must pardon me if I have that veneration for Aristotle, 
Horace, Ben Johnson, and Corneille, that I dare not serve him in 
such a cause, and against such heroes, but rather fight under 
their protection, as Homer reports of Httle Teucer, who shot the 
Trojans from under the large buckler of Ajax Telamon : 
Srr; 8'ap^ vtt' AtavTOS (Xolku 'YeKoiixcoviabaw. 
He stood beneath his brother's ample shield; 
And cover'd there, shot death through all the field. (P. 304.) 

* * * * 

Those propositions, which are laid down in my discourse as 
helps to the better imitation of nature, are not mine (as I have 
said), nor were ever pretended so to be, but derived from the 
authority of Aristotle and Horace, and from the rules and ex- 
amples of Ben Jonson and Corneille. (P. 308.) 

* * * * 

Few Englishmen, except Ben Jonson, have ever made a plot, 

with variety of design in it, included in twenty-four hours, 

which was altogether natural. For this reason, I prefer the 

Silent Woman before all other plays, I think justly, as I do its 

author, in judgment, above all other poets. (P. 314.) 

[A Defence of an Essay of Dramatic Poesy; being an answer to the Preface 
of the Great Favourite, or The Duke of Lerma, 1668; the page 
references are to the edition of The Dramatic Works of John Dryden, 
ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1882, vol. ii.] 

John Dryden, 1668. 

To say this comedy pleased long ago, 
Is not enough to make it pass you now. 
Yet, gentlemen, your ancestors had wit. 
When few men censuied, and when fewer writ. 
And Jonson, of those few the best, chose this, 
As the best model of his master-piece: 
Subtle was got by our Albumazar, 
That Alchymist by this Astrologer; 
Here he was fashioned, and we may suppose. 
He liked the fashion well, who wore the clothes. 
But Ben made nobly his what he did mould; 
What was another's lead, becomes his gold: 



TO BEN JONSON 347 

Like an unrighteous conqueror he reigns, 
Yet rules that well which he unjustly gains. 
[Prologue to the 1668 edition of John Tompkins's Albumazar.] 

Sir John Denham, 1668. 

On Mr. Abraham Coivley. 
Old Chaucer, like the morning Star, 
To us discovers day from far, 
His lights those Mists and Clouds dissolv'd. 
Which our dark Nation long involv'd; 
But he descending to the shades, 
Darkness again the Age invades. 
Next (like Aurora) Spencer rose, 
Whose purple blush the day foreshows. 

***** 
By Shakespears, Johnsoii's, Fletcher s lines. 
Our Stages lustre Rome's outshines: 
These Poets neer our Princes sleep, 
And in one Grave their Mansion keep. 

Time, which made them their Fame outlive, 
To Cowly scarce did ripeness give. 
Old Mother Wit, and Nature gave 
Shakespear and Fletcher all they have; 
In Spencer, and in Johnson, Art 
Of flower Nature got the start. 

He melted not the ancient Gold, 
Nor with Ben Johnson did make bold 
To plunder all the Roman Stores 
Of Poets, and of Orators: 
Horace his Wit, and VirgiVs State, 
He did not steal, but emulate, 
And when he would like them appear, 
Their Garb, but not their Cloaths, did wear. 
[Poems and Translations, with The Sophy, 1668, p. 89.] 



348 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Thomas Shad well, 1668. 

The success of this Play, as it was much more than it deserved, 

so was much more than I expected; especially in this very 

critical age, when every man pretends to be a judge, and some, 

that never read three Plays in their lives, and never understood 

one, are as positive in their judgment of Plays, as if they were 

all Jonsons. 

* * * * 

I have endeavoured to represent variety of humours (most of 
the persons of the Play differing in their characters from one 
another), which was the practice of Ben Jonson, whom I think 
all dramatic poets ought to imitate, though none are like to 
come near; he being the only person that appears to me to 
have made perfect representations of human life. Most other 
authors, that I ever read, either have wild romantic tales, wherein 
they strain love and honour to that ridiculous height that it 
becomes burlesque; or in their lower comedies content themselves 
with one or two humours at most, and those not near such 
perfect characters as the admirable Jonson always made, who 
never wrote comedy without seven or eight excellent humours. 
I never saw one, except that of Falstafif, that was in my judgment 
comparable to any of Jonson's considerable humours. You will 
pardon this digression, when I tell you he is the man, of all the 
world, I most passionately admire for his excellency in his 
dramatic poetry. 

Though I have known some of late so insolent to say, that 
Ben Jonson wrote his best Plays without wit; imagining that 
all the wit in Plays consisted in bringing two persons upon the 
stage to break jests and to bob one another, which they call 
repartee; not considering that there is more wit and invention 
required in the finding out good humour, and matter proper for 
it, than in all their smart repartees. 

[The Preface to The Sullen Lovers, 1668.] 

Thomas Shadwell, 1668. 

Stanf. . . . This morning, just as I was coming to look for 
you. Sir Positive At-all, that fool that will let no man understand 



TO BEN JONSON 349 

anything in his company, arrests me with his impertinence. 
Says he, with a great deal of gravity, "Perhaps I am the man 
of the world that have found out two Plays, that betwixt you 
and I have a great deal of wit in 'em; those are. The Silent 
Woman and The Scornful Lady; and if I understand anything 
in the world, there's wit enough in both those to make one good 
Play; if I had the management of 'em; for you must know, 
this is a thing I have thought upon and considered." (P. 15.) 
* * * * 

1st Clerk {reads): " I do acknowledge and firmly believe that 
the Play of Sir Positive At-all, Knight, called 'The Lady in the 
Lobster,' notwithstanding it was damned by the malice of the 
age, shall not only read, but it shall act, with any of Ben Jonson's 
and Beaumont's and Fletcher's Plays — " 

Sir Posit. Hold, hold! I'll have Shakespear's in; 'slife, I 

had like to have forgot that. (P. 61.) 

[The Sullen Lovers, 1668. The page references are to the Mermaid 
Edition of Shadwell; cf. also p. 40.] 

Thomas Shadwell, 1668. 

This [play] (being never by him intended for Action) was 
wrote in single Scenes (without that Connexion, which the 
Incomparable Johnson first taught the Stage). 
[Preface to The Royal Shepherdess, 1668.] 

Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon, 1668-70. 

Whilst He was only a Student of the Law, and stood at Gaze, 
and irresolute what Course of Life to take, his chief Acquaintance 
were Ben. Johnson, John Seldon, Charles Cotton, John Vaughan, 
Sir Kenelm. Dighy, Thomas May, and Thomas Carew, and some 
others of eminent Faculties in their several Ways. Ben. John- 
son's Name can never be forgotten, having by his very good 
Learning, and the Severity of his Nature and Manners, very 
much reformed the Stage; and indeed the English Poetry itself. 
His natural Advantages were. Judgment to order and govern 
Fancy, rather than Excess of Fancy, his Productions being slow 
and upon Deliberation, yet then abounding with great Wit and 



350 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Fancy and will live accordingly; and surely as He did, exceed- 
ingly exalt the English Language in Eloquence, Propriety, and 
masculine Expressions; so He was the best Judge of, and fittest 
to prescribe Rules to Poetry and Poets, of any Man who had 
lived with, or before him, or since: If Mr. Cowley had not made 
a Flight beyond all Men, with that Modesty yet, to ascribe 
much of this, to the Example and Learning of Ben. Johnson. 
His Conversation was very good, and with the Men of most 
Note; and He had for many Years an extraordinary Kindness 
for Mr. Hyde, till He found He betook himself to Business, 
which He believed ought never to be preferred before his Com- 
pany. He lived to be very old, and till the Palsy made a deep 
Impression upon his Body, and his Mind. 
* * * * 
He [Sir Lucius Carey, Viscount Falkland] seemed to have his 
Estate in Trust, for all worthy Persons, who stood in Want of 
Supplies and Encouragement, as Ben. Johnson, and many others 
of that Time, whose Fortunes required, and whose Spirits made 
them superior to ordinary Obligations. 

[The Life of Edward Earl of Clarendon, Written by Himself, Oxford, 
1759, i, 30, 4I-] 

Samuel Pepys, 1669. 

February 22nd. . . . And in the evening I do carry them to 
White Hall, and there did without much trouble get into the 
playhouse, there in a good place among the Ladies of Honour, 
and myself also sat in the pit; and there by and by come the 
King and Queen, and they begun Bartholomew Fayre. But I 
like no play here so well as at the common playhouse; besides 
that, my eyes being very ill since last Sunday and this day 
se'nnight, with the light of the candles, I was in mighty pain 
to defend myself now from the light of the candles. 

N^ -1' ¥ 'F 

April lyth. ... At noon home to dinner, and there find Mr. 
Pierce, the surgeon, and he dined with us; and there hearing 
that The Alchymist was acted, we did go, and took him with us 
to the King's house; and it is still a good play, having not been 



TO BEN JONSON 351 

acted for two or three years before; but I do miss Clun, for the 
Doctor. 

[Diary, ed. H. B. Wheatley, 1893.] 

William Ramsey, 1669. 

But the Noblest exercise of the mind within doors, and most 
befitting a Person of Quality, is Study, sometimes one, and some- 
times another, for Diversion, were not amiss. Which are most 
commendable, and becoming a Gentleman, you have been taught 
before. And, as I hinted there; A few good Books is better than 
a Library, and a main part of Learning. I shall here contract 
his Study into these few. Books following; in which he may 
indeed reade all that is requisite, and of Substance. . . . 

And among our selves, old Sr. Jeffery Chaucer, Ben. Johnson, 

Shakespear, Spencer, Beaumont and Fletcher, Dryden, and what 

other Playes from time to time you find best Penn'd; And for a 

Diversion you may read Hudebras, and Don Quixot, and Quevedo 

for prose; As also for General Readings, Burton's Melancholy, 

and our famous Seldon his works. 

[The Gentlemans Companion, 1672, Division iv. The Dedication bears 
the date "June 15, 1669." A MS. note on the title-page of the 
copy described by W. C. HazHtt, Collections and Notes, 1876, 
p. 182, attributes the work to Ramsey.] 

Edward Phillips, 1669. 

Hoc seculo [sc. temporibus Elizabethae reginae et Jacobi regis] 
floruerunt . . . Gulielmus Shacsperius, qui prseter opera Dram- 
atica, duo Poemata LucreticB stuprum a Tarqiiinio, et Amores 
Veneris in Adonidem, Lyrica carmina nonnulla composuit: 
videtur fuisse, siquis ahus, re vera Poeta natus. Samuel Daniel 
non obscurus hujus aetatis Poeta, etc. . . . 

Ex eis qui dramatice scripserunt, Primas sibi vendicant 
Shacsperus, Jonsonus et Flecherus, quorum hie facunda et polita 
quadam familiaritate Sermonis, ille erudito judicio et Usu 
veterum Authorum, alter nativa quadam et Poetica sublimitate 
Ingenii excelluisse videntur. Ante hos in hoc genere Poeseos 
apud nos eminuit Nemo. Pauci quidem antea scripserunt, at 
parum foeliciter; hos autem tanquam duces itineris plurimi 



352 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

saltern semulati sunt, inter quos praeter Sherleium, (proximum 
a supra memorato Triumviratu,) Suclingium, Randolphium, 
Davenantium et Carturitium . . . enumerandi veniunt Ric. 
Bromeus, Tho. Heivodus. 

[Tractatulus de Carmine Dramatico Poetarum, et compendiosa Ennmeratio 
Poetaruni a Tempore Dantis Aligerii usque ad hanc Aetatem. Added 
to the seventeenth edition of Thesaurus J. Buchleri, 1669. From 
the edition of 1679, pp. 396, 397, 399.] 

Anonymous, 1669? 

To heaven once ther caime a poett, a friend of mine swore hee 

did know itt. ... 
Ould Chauser mett him in great state, Spenser and Johnson at 

the gate 
Beamon and Flettchers witt mayd one, butt Shakspeers witt did 

goe aloane. 
[Verses set to music, in Harl. MS. 6947, fol. 401.] 

John Aubrey, 1669-96. 

Francis Bacon (1^61-1626). 

. . . Mr. Ben: Johnson was one of his friends and acquaint- 
ance, as doeth appeare by his excellent verses on his lordship's 
birth-day in his second volume, and in his Underwoods, where 
he gives him a character and concludes that "about his time, 
and within his view were borne all the witts that could honour a 
nation or help studie." (i, 68.) 

* * * * 
Lucius Carey, viscount Falkland (1610-1643). 

. . . For learned gentlemen of the country, his acquaintance 
was Sir H. Rainesford, of . . . neer Stratford-upon-Avon, now. 
. . . (quaere Tom Mariet); Sir Francis Wenman, of Caswell, in 
Witney parish; Mr. . . . Sandys, the traveller and translator 
(who was uncle to my lady Wenman) ; Ben. Johnson (vide 
Johnsonus Virbius, where he has verses, and 'twas his lordship, 
Charles Gattaker told me, that gave the name to it) ; Edmund 
Waller, esq.; Mr. Thomas Hobbes, and all the excellent of that 
peaceable time, (i, 151.) 



TO BEN JONSON 353 

John Dee {15 27-1608). 
. . . He used to distill egge-shells, and 'twas from hence that 
Ben Johnson had his hint of the alkimist, whom he meant. 

(i, 2I3-) 

Sir Kenelni Digby {1603-1665). 
. . . See excellent verses of Ben: Johnson (to whome he was 
a great patrone) in his 2d volumne. (i, 227.) 

* * * * 

Thomas Egerton, lord Ellesmere {1540-1617). 
. . . He was a great patron to Ben Johnson, as appeares by 
severall epistles to him. (i, 245.) 

* * * * 
Thomas Hobbes {1588-1670). 

1634: this summer Mr. T. H. came into his native country to 
visitt his friends. . . . 'Twas the last time that ever he was in 
Wiltshire. 

His conversation about those times was much about Ben : 
Jonson, Mr. Ayton, etc. . . . 

Catalogue oj his learned familiar friends and acquaintances, 
besides those already mentioned, that I remember him to have 
spoken of. 

Mr. Benjamin Johnson, Poet-Laureat, was his loving and 
familiar friend and acquaintance. 

[Sir Robert] Aiton, Scoto-Britannus, a good poet and critique 
and good scholar. He was needy related to his lord's lady 
(Bruce). And he desired Ben: Johnson, and this gentleman, to 
give their judgement on his style of his translation of Thucydides. 

(i, 331. 332, 365-) 

* * * * 

John Hoskyns {i 566-1638). 
Ben : Johnson called him father. Sir Benet (bishop Benet of 
Hereford was his godfather) told me that one time desiring Mr. 
Johnson to adopt him for his sonne, "No," said he, "I dare not; 
'tis honour enough for me to be your brother: I was your father's 
Sonne, and 'twas he that polished me." (i, 418.) 



24 



354 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Ben Jonson {1^74-1637). 

Mr. Benjamin Johnson, Poet Laureat; — I remember when I 
was a scholar at Trin. Coll. Oxon. 1646, I heard Dr. Ralph 
Bathurst (now deane of Wells) say that Ben Johnson was a 
Warwyckshire man — -sed quaere. 'Tis agreed that his father was 
a minister; and by his epistle dedicat. of "Every Man . . ." 
to Mr. William Camden that he was a Westminster scholar and 
that Mr. W. Camden was his school-master. 

Anthony Wood in his Hist., lib. 2, p. 273, sayes he was borne 
in Westminster: that (at riper yeares) after he had studied at 
Cambridge he came of his owne accord to Oxon and there entred 
himselfe in Ch. Ch. and tooke his Master's degree in Oxon (or 
conferred on him) anno 1619. 

His mother, after his father's death, maried a brick-layer; 
and 'tis generally sayd that he wrought sometime with his father- 
in-lawe (and particularly on the garden-wall of Lincoln's Inne 
next to Chancery-lane — from old parson [Richard] Hill, of 

Stretton, Hereff., 1646), and that , a knight, a 

bencher, walking thro' and hearing him repeat some Greeke 
verses out of Homer, discoursing with him, and finding him to 
have a witt extraordinary, gave him some exhibition to maintaine 

him at Trinity college in Cambridge, where he was 

(quaere). 

Then he went into the Lowe-countreys, and spent some time 
(not very long) in the armie, not to the disgrace of . . . , as 
you may find in his Epigrammes. 

Then he came over into England, and acted and wrote, but 
both ill, at the Green Curtaine, a kind of nursery or obscure 
playhouse, somewhere in the suburbes (I thinke towards Shore- 
ditch or Clarkenwell) — from J. Greenhill. 

Then he undertooke againe to write a playe, and did hitt it 
admirably well, viz. "Every man ..." which was his first 
good one. 

Serjeant John Hoskins, of Herefordshire, was his father. I 
remember his sonne (Sir Bennet Hoskins, baronet, who was 
something poeticall in his youth) told me, that when he desired 
to be adopted his son: "No," sayd he, "'tis honour enough for 



TO BEN JONSON 355 

me to be your brother; I am your father's son, 'twas he that 
poHshed me, I doe acknowledge it." 

He was (or rather had been) of a clear and faire skin; his habit 
was very plaine. I have heard Mr. Lacy, the player, say that 
he was wont to weare a coate like a coachman's coate, with slitts 
under the arme-pitts. He would many times exceed in drinke 
(Canarie was his beloved liquour) : then he would tumble home 
to bed, and, when he had throughly perspired, then to studie. I 
have seen his studyeing chaire, which was of strawe, such as old 
woemen used, and as Aulus Gellius is drawen in. 

When I was in Oxon, bishop Skinner (of Oxford), who lay at 
our College, was wont to say that he understood an author as 
well as any man in England. 

He mentions in his Epigrammes a sonne that he had, and his 
epitaph. 

Long since, in King James' time, I have heard my uncle Dan- 
vers say (who knew him), that he lived without Temple Barre, at 
a combe-maker's shop, about the Elephant and Castle. In his 
later time he lived in Westminster, in the house under which 
you passe as you goe out of the churchyard into the old palace; 
where he dyed. 

He lies buryed in the north aisle in the path of square stone 
(the rest is lozenge), opposite to the scutcheon of Robertus de 
Ros, with this inscription only on him, in a pavement square, of 
blew marble, about 14 inches square, 

O RARE BENN lOHNSON 

which was donne at the chardge of Jack Young (afterwards 
knighted) who, walking there when the grave was covering, gave 
the fellow eighteen pence to cutt it. 

His motto before his (bought) bookes was, Tanquam Explora- 
tor. I remember 'tis in Seneca's Epistles. 

He was a favourite of the Lord Chancellor Egerton, asappeares 
by severall verses to him. In one he begges his lordship to doe 
a friend of his a favour. 

'Twas an ingeniose remarque of my lady Hoskins, that B. J. 
never writes of love, or if he does, does it not naturally. 

He killed Mr. . . . Marlow, the poet, on Bunhill, comeing 



356 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

from the Green-Curtain play-house.— From Sir Edward Shirburn. 
Ben Johnson: — Ben Jonson had 50 li. per annum for . . . 
yeares together to keepe off Sir W. Wiseman of Essex from being 
sheriff. At last king James prickt him, and Ben came to his 
majestie and told him he "had prickt him to the heart" and then 
explaynd himselfe {innuendo Sir W. W. being prickt sheriff) and 
got him struck off. 

Vide his Execration against Vulcan. Vide None-such-Charles. 
When B. J. was dyeing king Charles sent him but x li. Quaere T. 
Shadwell pro notes of B. J. irom the duke of Newcastle; and also 
quaere Thomas Henshawe (as also de saxis in Hibernia. Quaere 
my lord Clifford of the gentleman that cutt the grasse under Ben 
Jonson 's feet, of whom he sayd "ungratefull man! I showed 
him Juvenal." 

B. Jonson; one eye lower then t' other and bigger. He tooke 
a catalogue from Mr. Lacy of the Yorkshire words — his hint to 
Tale of a Tub for the clownery. 

Ben Johnson had one eie lower than t'other, and bigger, like 
Clun, the player: perhaps he begott Clun. He tooke a catalogue 
from Mr. Lacy (the player) of the Yorkshire dialect. 'Twas his 
hint for clownery to his comoedy called The Tale of a Tub. This 
I had from Mr. Lacy. 

King James made him write against the Puritans, who began 
to be troublesome in his time. 

A Grace by Ben Johnson, extempore, before King James. 

Our King and Queen, the Lord-God blesse, 

The Paltzgrave, and the Lady Besse, 

And God blesse every living thing 

That lives, and breath's, and loves the King. 

God bless the Councell of Estate, 

And Buckingham, the fortunate. 

God blesse them all, and keepe them safe. 

And God blesse me, and God blesse Raph. 
The king was mighty enquisitive to know who this Raph was. 
Ben told him 'twas the drawer at the Swanne tavernne, by 
Charing-crosse, who drew him good Canarie. For this drollery 
his majestie gave him an hundred poundes. 



TO BEN JONSON 357 

This account I received from Mr. Isaac Walton {who wrote Dr. 
John Donne's &'c. Life), Decemb. 2, 1680, he being then eighiy- 
seaven years of age. This is his owne hand writing. 
Ffor yo"" ffriend's que. this: 

I only knew Ben Johnson: but my lord of Winton knew him 
very well, and says he was in the 6°, that is the upermost fforme 
in Westminster scole. At which time his father dyed, and his 
mother marryed a brickelayer, who made him (much against his 
will) to help him in his trade. But in a short time, his scole 
maister, Mr. Camden, got him a better imployment, which was 
to atend or accompany a son of Sir Walter Rauleyes in his 
travills. Within a shoit time after their returne, they parted 
(I think not in cole bloud) and with a love su table to what they 
had in their travills (not to be comended) ; and then, Ben began 
to set up for himselfe in the trade by which he got his subsistance 
and fame. Of which I nede not give any account. He got in 
time to have a 100 li. a yeare from the king, also a pention from 
the Cittie, and the like from many of the nobilitie, and some of 
the gentry, w^ was well payd for love or fere of his raling in 
verse or prose, or boeth. My lord of W^inton told me, he told 
him he was (in his long retyrement, and sicknes, when he saw 
him, which was often) much aflickted that hee had profain'd 
the scripture, in his playes; and lamented it with horror; yet,, 
that at that time of his long retyrement, his pentions (so much 
as came yn) was given to a woman that govern'd him, with 
whome he livd and dyed nere the Abie in West minster; and 
that nether he nor she tooke much care for next weike, and wood 
be sure not to want wine; of which he usually tooke too much 
before he went to bed, if not oftner and soner. My lord tells 
me, he knowes not, but thinks he was borne in Westminster. 
The question may be put to Mr. Wood very easily upon what 
grownds he is positive as to his being borne their? he is a friendly 
man and will resolve it. So much for brave Ben. You will not 
think the rest so tedyus, as I doe this. . . . 



358 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

This is all I know or can learne for yo'' friend [Anthony a 
Wood] ; which I wish may be worth the time and treble of reading 
it. I. W. 

Nov". 22, 80. 

* * * * 

John Lacy {16 168 1). 

. . . B. Jonson tooke a note of his Yorkshire words and 
proverbes for his Tale of a Tub, several "Gad kettlepinns!" 
(ii, 28.) 

* * * * 

Sir Walter Ralegh {1552-1618). 
... In his youthfull time, was one Charles Chester, that often 
kept company with his acquaintance; he was a bold impertenent 
fellowe, and they could never be at quiet for him; a perpetuall 
talker, and made a noyse like a drumme in a roome. So one 
time at a taverne Sir W. R. beates him and, scales up his mouth 
(i.e. his upper and neather beard) with hard wax. From him 
Ben Johnson takes his Carlo Buffono {i.e. "jester") in Every 
Man out of his Humour, (ii, 184; cf. 192.) 

* * * * 
William Shakespear {1564-16 16). 

. . . This William . . . was an actor at one of the play- 
Tiouses, and did act exceedingly well (now B. Johnson was never 
a good actor, but an excellent instructor). . . . Ben Johnson 
and he did gather humours of men dayly where ever they came. 
. . . He was wont to say that he " never blotted out a line in 
his life"; sayd Ben: Johnson, "I wish he had blotted-out a 
thousand." . . . Though, as Ben: Johnson sayes of him, that he 
had but little Latine and lesse Greek, he understood Latine 
pretty well, for he had been in his younger yeares a schoolmaster 
in the countrey. (ii, 226.) 

* * * * 
Thomas Sutton {1532-1611). 

. . . *Twas from him that B. Johnson tooke his hint of the fox, 
and by Seigneur Volpone is meant Sutton, (ii, 246.) 

[Brief Lives, ed. A. Clark, 1898; the volume and page references are to 
this edition. For passing allusion to Jonson, see also i, 231, 232; 
ii, 55, 217, 220, 239, 275.] 



TO BEN JONSON 359 



Watson, 1670. 



An Elegy on S'' W Davenant & his Burial! 
amongst the Ancient Poetes. 
First in the broad Elysian streets 

V 

f Him his old father lohnson greets; 

Next him his Cousen Shakespear meets, 
And his friend Suckhn lends him sheets. 
[Addit. MS. Brit. Mus., 18220, p. 58, If. 33.] 

Anonymous, 1670. 

1670, Thursday, July 21st. — ^A Constitucion of John Dryden, 
Master of Arts, to be his Majesties poet Laureat and historiog- 
rapher-generall, with all such priviledges as Sir Geoffry Chaucer, 
Sir John Gower, John Leland, esq., William Camden, esq., 
Benjamin Johnson, esq., James Howell, esq., or Sir William 
Davenant had or enjoyed, with the yearly pencion of 200 £ per 
annum and a pipe of Canary wine, out of his Majesties cellars: 
Habend. during his Majesties pleasure. 

[The MSS. of J. Eliot Hodgkin; an extract reproduced in the Fifteenth 
Report of the Royal Commission on Historical Manuscripts, 1896, 
part ii, p. 13.] 

Richard Flecknoe, 1670. 

Of the difference Betwixt the Ancient and Modern Playes. 
If any one the difference would know. 
Betwixt the Ancient Playes and Modern now; 
In Ancient Times none ever went away. 
But with a glowing bosome from a Play, 
With somewhat they had heard, or see7i so fierd. 
They seem to be Celestially inspir'd. . . . 
So hard 'tis now for any one to write 
W^ith Johnson's fire, or Fletcher's flame & spright: 
Much less inimitable Shakspears way, 
Promethian-like to animate a Play. 
[Epigrams, 1670, p. 71.] 

Sir Thomas Culpeper, 1670. 

I am not so in love with our own times and faces, as that I 
fancy in our selves a greater excellency, then in our predecessors; 



36o AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

who can think that the famous Sr. Phillip Sydney, or the incom- 
parable Lord Bacon have been out done in their several kinds, 
or Shakespear, Beaumont, and Fletcher, or Ben lohnson in theirs, 
by any of our present writers. 

* * * * 

It was excellently observed by our great Ben. lohnson, that 
the eldest of the present, and the newest of the past Language 
is the best, which gives enough of our respect to antiquity, in 
point of Speech. 

[Essayes or Moral Discourses On severall Subjects, licensed 1670, printed 
1671, pp. 109, 118.] 

Aphra Behn, 1671. 

First then for you grave Dons, who love no play 
But what is regular, Great Johnson's way. 
[Prologue to The Amorous Prince, 1671.] 

Thomas Shadwell, 1671. 

Prefdce. 

Mr. JoJmson, I believe, was very unjustly taxed for personating 
particular Men: but it will ever be the Fate of them, that write 
the Humours of the Town, especially in a foolish and vicious 
Age. Pardon me (Reader) that I name him in the same Page 
with my self; who pretend to nothing more, than to join with 
all Men of Sense and Learning in Admiration of him; which, I 
think, I do not out of a true Understanding of him; and for this 
I would not value my self. Yet by extolling his way of Writing 
I cannot but insinuate to you, that I can Practise it; though I 
would, if I could, a thousand times sooner than any Man's. . . . 

Yet (after all this) I cannot think it Impudence in him, or 
any Man, to endeavour to imitate Mr. Johnson, whom he 
confesses to have fewer Failings, than all the English Poets; 
which implies he was the most perfect, and best Poet: And why 
should not we endeavour to imitate him? because we cannot 
arrive to his Excellence? 'Tis true, we cannot; but this is no 
more an Argument than for a Soldier (who considers with himself, 
he cannot be so great a one as Julius Ccesar) to run from his 
Colours, and be none; or to speak of a less thing, why should 



TO BEN JONSON 361 

any Man study Mathematicks after Archimedes} &c. This 
Principle would be an Obstruction to the progress of all Learning 
and Knowledge in the World. Men of all Professions ought 
certainly to follow the best in theirs; and let not Endeavours 
be blamed, if they go as far as they can in the right Way, though 
they be unsuccessful, and attain not their ends. If Mr. Johnson 
be the most faultless Poet, I am so far from thinking it Impudence 
to endeavour to imitate him, that it would rather (in my Opinion) 
seem Impudence in me not to do it. 

I cannot be of their Opinion, who think he wanted Wit: I am 
sure, if he did, he was so far from being the most faultless, that 
he was the most faulty Poet of his Time. But it may be an- 
swered, that his Writings were correct, though he wanted Fire; 
but I think flat and dull Things are as incorrect, and shew as 
little Judgment in the Author, nay less, than sprightly and 
mettled Nonsense does. But I think he had more true Wit 
than any of his Contemporaries: that other Men had sometimes 
Things, that seem'd more Fiery than his, was because they were 
placed with so many sordid and mean Things about them, that 
they made a greater Show. . . . 

Nor can I think, to the writing of his Humours (which were 
not only the Follies, but the Vices and Subtilties of Men) that 
Wit was not required, but Judgment; where, by the way, they 
speak as if Judgment were a less thing than Wit. But certainly 
it was meant otherwise by Nature, who subjected Wit to the 
Government of Judgment, which is the noblest Faculty of the 
Mind. Fancy rough-draws, but Judgment smooths and finishes: 
nay. Judgment does not comprehend Wit; for no Man can have 
that, who has not Wit. In Fancy Mad-men equal, if not excell, 
all others; and one may as well say, that one of those Mad-men 
is as good a Man, as temperate a Wise-man, as that one of the 
very fanciful Plays (admir'd most by Women) can be so good a 
Play, as one of Johnson's Correct and Well-govern'd Comedies. 

The Reason given by some, why Johnson needed not Wit in 
writing Humour, is, because Humour is the efifect of Observa- 
tion, and Observation the effect of Judgment; but Observation 
is as much Necessary in all other Plays, as in Comedies of 
Humour. . . . 



362 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The most Excellent Johnson put Wit into the Mouths of the 
meanest of his People, and, which is infinitely Difiticult, made it 
proper for 'em. And I once heard a Person of the greatest Wit 
and Judgment of the Age say, That Bartholomew- Fair, (which 
consists most of low Persons) is one of the wittiest Plays in the 
World. If there be no Wit required, in the rendring Folly 
ridiculous, or Vice odious, we must accuse Juvenal, the best 
Satyrist and wittiest Man of all the Latin Writers, for want of 
it. 

I should not say so much of Mr. Johnson, (whose Merit 
sufificiently justifies him to all Men of Sense) but that I think 
my self a little obliged to vindicate the Opinion I publickly 
declared in my Epilogue to this Play; which I did upon mature 
Consideration, and with a full Satisfaction in my Judgment, 
and not out of a bare afifected vanity of being thought his Admirer. 

Epilogue. 
The Mighty Prince of Poets, learned BEN, 
Who alone div'd into the Minds of Men, 
Saw all their Wandrings, all their Follies knew. 
And all their vain fantastick Passions drew. 
In Images so lively and so true. 
That there each Humourist himself might view, 
•Yet only lash'd the Errors of the Times, 
And ne'er expos'd the Persons, but the Crimes; 
And never car'd for private Frowns, when he 
Did but chastise publick Iniquity: 
He fear'd no Pimp, no Pick-pocket, or Drab; 
He fear'd no Bravo, nor no Ruffian's Stab: 
'Twas he alone true Humours understood. 
And with great Wit and Judgment made them good. 
A Humour is the Byass, of the Mind, 
By which with Violence 'tis one way inclin'd: 
It makes our Actions lean on one side still; 
And in all Changes that way bends the Will. 

This 

He only knew and represented right. 

Thus none, but mighty Johnson, e'er could write. 



TO BEN JONSON 363 

Expect not then, since that most flourishing Age 
Of BEN, to see true Humour on the Stage. 
All, that have since been writ, if they be scan'nd, 
Are but faint Copies from that Master's Hand. 
Our Poet now, amongst those petty Things, 
Alas! his too weak trifling Humours brings. 
As much beneath the worst in Johnson'' s Plays, 
As his great Merit is above our Praise. 
For could he imitate that great Author right. 
He would with ease all Poets else out-write. 
But to out-go all other Men, would be, 
O Noble BEN! less than to follow thee. 
y [The Humorists, 1671.] 

Edward Howard, 1671. 

Preface. 

Not that I judge our unimitable JoJinso7i, or those wonders of 
Wit, Beaumont and Fletcher, were without their failings. . . . 

Doubtless it was the Wit of Poets that (above all) refin'd their 
own languages; so that I wonder to find it affirmed that Ben. 
Johnson (who had such a soul of thought) did by Translating 
beautifie our Tongue; as if his ingenuity was not to be allowed 
the glory of doing far more by its single strength. I should be 
loth to wish any so ill, as that he were alive to answer the imputa- 
tion; however, I could be well content, that such as will make 
him their president in Translating from others, could dispose of 
it so well, and that they had likewise as much Wit, and Learning 
besides. 

Translating, may I grant, add some perfection to a language, 
because it introduces the wit of others into its own words, as the 
French have of late done well in theirs ; and we have pretty well 
requited their kindness to us, in rendring so much of theirs in 
ours; but where I can make use of good Originals, I shall be more 
sparing of my esteem of Copies, and I dare averre, that the Ingen- 
uities of Johnson, Beaumont, and Fletcher, with some other of our 
former Poets, left our language more improved, as it expressed 
their thoughts, then if the best of Italian, Spanish, and French 



364 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Wit, had been Translated by the greatest of Pens. I wish it 

be our good fortune (for the benefit of future times) to leave 

our Tongue as "much inlarged and imbellished, as they left it 

to us. . . . 

* * * * 

The First Prologue. 

. . . Then is heard a noise with Thunder and Lightning, at 
which time Ben. Johnson personated rises from below. 

Noak[es]. Ha, Thunder and Lightning!— I hope the Madam 
Muses are not displeas'd with us. 

Ang[el]. But what apparition is this moving towards us? 

Und[erhill]. As I am an Actor, 'tis the Genius of the old 
Comick Poet Ben. Johnson, I know it by his Picture that hangs 
up in the Strand. 

Ang. Fly, fly, Associates, there's no being on the Stage 
longer, for us of the Farce party. [They go off several ivays.] 

After which Ben. Johnson personated, goes up to the Audience, 
and speaks a Prologue. 

The Second Prologue personated like Ben Johnson 
rising from below. 
Behold I Ben appear, your Poet once. 
That living durst a vengeance here denounce 
On all the Stages Crimes, and Judges dare 
To make my Wit their sense, or else their fear; 
Thus have I left th'Elizinni Shades and Groves, 
The sacred Mansions of the Muses Loves, 
Where I my Bays till now unwither'd saw 
In my immortal Plays, that here gave Law. 
But now provok'd, the Muses quarrel take. 
And from their call thus my appearance make; 
Did I instruct you (well ne're half an Age) 
To understand the Grandeur of the Stage, 
With the exactest Rules of Comedy, 
Yet now y'are pleased with Wits low frippery, 
Admitting Farce, the trifling mode of France, 
T'infect you with fantastick ignorance. 



TO BEN JONSON 365 

Forgetting 'twas your glory to behold, 

Plays wisely form'd, such as I made of old; 

But by my Bays I swear, if you persist, 

And my Judicious Cautions hence resist, 

rie next rise with the Furies from below. 

That scourge vile Poets there with Scorpions too, 

And with those circl'd, hiss at you, and them. 

Except the Scenes just Grandeur you redeem; 

Thus for your Crimes, but what this day will be, 

The fate and merit of the Play you'l see; 

I scarce divine, nor did its Author raise 

Me by a Poets charm to give him praise. 

I never had an Ear was sooth'd by Rhime, 

Or flatter'd to protect a Writers crime. 

And might this Authors modesty offend. 

Should my Encomium here his Play commend; 

Who now prevents it, whilest methinks I hear 

A whisper of his doubtings in my ear; 

His fears are many, there's such Fate in W'it, 

That Plays from fortune more then merit hit. 

Whose Muse would blush for such a guilty chance. 

Since 'twere the bounty of your ignorance. 

But though your crimes in judgment he forbears, 

Take heed, how Ben provok'd, once more appears. 

Third Prologue. 
You see what little Arts w'are fain to try, 
To give a Prologue some variety; 
Wit you have had, perhaps, in many new. 
Though Farce, and Dance, (your much lov'd mirth) in few. 

But why Great Johnson's Ghost should thus appear, 

As if to hector Wits, and Criticks here. 

Who (if the Devil were Poet) would not fear? 

'Twas a bold Fiction, and so let it go. 

Yet thus far 'tis instructive unto you; 

That should you recollect your Judging Crimes, 

The Ribaldry of Plays in Prose, and Rhimes, 

Johnson might rise indeed, and own it true. 



366 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

His Plays were Laws to Wit, and Plot well told, 
But such you slight, (though wise) because th'are old; 
And well it is for Writers, since that way 
You might expect from all who write a Play. 

True Comedy, the moral Mirth of Plays, 
Lives now the glory of dead Poets Bays, 
And like the Phoenix (though confess'd to be) 
Produces few of her Posterity. . . . 
[The Womens Conquest, 1671. The Preface should be read in its entirety] 

John Dryden, 1671. 

I had thought, reader, in this preface, to have written some- 
what concerning the difference betwixt the plays of oui age, 
and those of our predecessors, on the English stage: To have 
shown in what parts of dramatic poesy we were excelled by Ben 
Jonson, I mean, humour, and contrivance of comedy; and in 
what we may justly claim piecedence of Shakespeare and Fletch- 
er, namely in heroic plays: But this design I have waved on 
second considerations; at least, deferred it till I publish The 
Conquest of Granada, where the discourse will be more proper. 
I had also prepared to treat of the improvement of our language 
since Fletcher's and Jonson's days, and consequently of our 
refining the courtship, railleiy, and conversation of plays. . . . 
As I pretend not that I can write humour, so none of them can 
reasonably pietend to have written it as they ought. Jonson 
was the only man, of all ages and nations, who has performed 
it well; and that but in three or four of his comedies. . . . 

But Ben Jonson is to be admired for many excellencies; and 
can be taxed with fewer failings than any English poet. I know 
I have been accused as an enemy of his writings; but without 
any other reason, than that I do not admire him blindly, and 
without looking into his imperfections. For why should there 
be any ipse dixit in our poetry, any more than there is in our 
philosophy? I admire and applaud him where I ought: Those, 
who do more, do but value themselves in their admiration of 
him; and, by telling you they extol Ben Jonson's way, would 
insinuate to you that they can practise it. Foi my part, I 



TO BEN JONSON 367 

declare that I want judgment to imitate him; and should think 
it a great impudence in myself to attempt it. To make men 
appear pleasantly ridiculous on the stage, was, as I have said, 
his talent; and in this he needed not the acumen of wit but 
that of judgment. For the characters and representations of 
folly are only the effects of observation; and obseivation is an 
elifect of judgment. Some ingenious men, for whom I have a 
particular esteem, have thought I have much injured Ben Jonson, 
when I have not allowed his wit to be extraordinary: But they 
confound the notion of what is witty, with what is pleasant. 
That Ben Jonson's plays were pleasant, he must want reason 
who denies: But that pleasantness was not properly wit, or the 
sharpness of conceit; but the natural imitation of folly: Which 
I confess to be excellent in its kind, but not to be of that kind 
which they pretend. . . . 

I think there is no folly so great in any poet of our age, as the 
superfluity and waste of wit was in some of our predecessors: 
particularly we may say of Fletcher and of Shakespeare, what 
was said of Ovid, In omni ejus ingenio, facilius quod rejici, quam 
quod adjici potest, invenies: The contrary of which was true in 
Virgil, and our incomparable Jonson. . . . 

Ben Jonson, indeed, has designed his plots himself; but no 
man has borrowed so much from the ancients as he has done: 
and he did well in it, for he has thereby beautified our language. 

[The Preface to An Evening's Love, or the Mock Astrologer, 1671. This 
interesting Preface is full of allusions to Jonson and his plays, 
but it is too long to be cited here entire.] 

John, Lord Vaughan, 1671. 

On Mr. Dryden's Play, The Conquest of Granada. 
There will be praise enough; yet not so much, 
As if the world had never any such : 
Ben Jonson, Beaumont, Fletcher, Shakespeare, are, 
As well as you, to have a poet's share. 
You, who write after, have, besides, this curse, 
You must write better, or you else write worse. 

[Prefixed to John Dryden's The. Conquest of Granada, Part I, entered 
in the Stationers' Registers February 1670-71, printed in 1672.] 



368 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Dryden, 1671. 

Of Heroic Plays. 
. . . To those who object my frequent use of drums and 
trumpets, and my representations of battles, I answer, I intro- 
duced them not on the EngHsh stage: Shakespeare used them 
frequently; and though Jonson shows no battle in his Catiline, 
yet you hear from behind the scenes the sounding of trumpets, 
and the shouts of fighting armies. 

[Prefixed to The Conquest of Grenada, Part I, entered in the Stationers' 
Registers in February, 1670-71, printed in i6y2.] 

John Dryden, 1671. 

Epilogjie. 

They, who have best succeeded on the stage, 

Have still conformed their genius to their age. 

Thus Jonson did mechanic humour show. 

When men were dull, and conversation low. 

Then comedy was faultless, but 'twas coarse: 

Cobb's tankard was a jest, and Otter's horse. 

And, as they comedy, their love was mean; 

Except, by chance, in some one laboured scene, 

Which must atone for an ill-written play. 

They rose, but at their height could seldom stay. 

Fame then was cheap, and the first comer sped; 

And they have kept it since, by being dead. 

But, were they now to write, when critics weigh 

Each line, and every word, throughout a play. 

None of them, no, not Jonson in his height, 

Could pass, without allowing grains for weight. 

Think it not envy, that these truths are told; 

Our poet's not malicious, though he's bold. 

'Tis not to brand them, that their faults are shown. 

But by their errors, to excuse his own. . . . 

* * * * 

Defence of the Epilogue. 

. . . To begin with Language. That an alteration is lately 

made in ours, or since the writers of the last age (in which I 

comprehend Shakespeare, Fletcher, and Jonson), is manifest. 



TO BEN JONSON 369 

Any man who reads those excellent poets, and compares their 
language with what is now written, will see it almost in every 
line; but that this is an improvement of the language, or an 
alteration for the better, will not so easily be granted. For 
many are of a contrary opinion, that the English tongue was 
then in the height of its perfection; that from Jonson's time to 
ours it has been a continual declination. . . . 

As for Ben Jonson, I am loath to name him, because he is a 
most judicious writer; yet he very often falls into these errors: 
and I once more beg the reader's pardon for accusing him of 
them. Only let him consider, that I live in an age where my 
least faults are severely censured; and that I have no way left 
to extenuate my failings, but by showing as great in those 
whom we admire: 

Ccedimus, inque vicem prcBhemiis crura sagittis. 
I cast my eyes but by chance on Catiline; and in the three or 
four last pages, found enough to conclude that Jonson writ not 
correctly. 

Let the long-hid seeds 
Of treason, in thee, now shoot forth in deeds 
Ranker than horror. 
In reading some bombast speeches of Macbeth, which are not 
to be understood, he used to say that it was horror; and I am 
much afraid that this is so. . . . 

But I am willing to close the book, partly out of veneration 
to the author, partly out of weariness to pursue an argument 
which is so fruitful in so small a compass. And what correctness, 
after this, can be expected from Shakespeare or from Fletcher, 
who wanted that learning and care which Jonson had? I will, 
therefore, spare my own trouble of inquiring into their faults. . . . 

For Ben Jonson, the most judicious of poets, he always writ 
properly, and as the character required; and I will not contest 
farther with my friends, who call that wit: it being very certain, 
that even folly itself, well represented, is wit in a larger signifi- 
cation; and that there is fancy, as well as judgment, in it, 
though not so much or noble: because all poetry being imitation, 
that of folly is a lower exercise of fancy, though perhaps as diffi- 

2S 



370 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

cult as the other; for it is a kind of looking downward in the 
poet, and representing that part of mankind which is below him. 

In these low characters of vice and folly, lay the excellency of 
that inimitable writer; who, when at any time he aimed at wit 
in the stricter sense, that is, sharpness of conceit, was forced 
either to borrow from the ancients, as to my knowledge he did 
very much from Plautus; or, when he trusted himself alone, 
often fell into meanness of expression. Nay, he was not free 
from the lowest and most grovelling kind of wit, which we call 
clenches, of which Every Man in his Humour is infinitely full; 
and, which is worse, the wittiest persons in the drama speak 
them. His other comedies are not exempt from them. Will you 
give me leave to name some few? . . . 

But, to conclude with what brevity I can, I will only add this, 
in defence of our present writers, that, if they reach not some 
excellencies of Ben Jonson (which no age, I am confident, ever 
shall), yet, at least, they are above that meanness of thought 
which I have taxed, and which is frequent in him. . . . 

And this will be denied by none, but some few old fellows 
who value themselves on their acquaintance with the Black 
Friars; who, because they saw their plays, would pretend a 
right to judge ours. The memory of these grave gentlemen is 
their only plea for being wits. They can tell a story of Ben 
Jonson, and, perhaps, have had fancy enough to give a supper 
in the Apollo, that they might be called his sons. And, because 
they were drawn in to be laughed at in those times, they think 
themselves now sufificiently entitled to laugh at ours. . . . 

Let us therefoie admire the beauties and the heights of Shake- 
speare, without falling after him into a carelessness, and, as I 
may call it, a lethargy of thought, for whole scenes together. 
Let us imitate, as we are able, the quickness and easiness of 
Fletcher, without proposing him as a pattern to us, either in the 
redundancy of his matter, or the incorrectness of his language. 
Let us admire his wit and sharpness of conceit; but let us at 
the same time acknowledge, that it was seldom so fixed, and 
made proper to his character, as that the same things might 
not be spoken by any person in the play. Let us applaud his 



TO BEN JONSON 371 

scenes of love; but let us confess, that he understood not either 
greatness or perfect honour in the parts of any of his women. 
In fine, let us allow, that he had so much fancy, as when he 
pleased he could write wit; but that he wanted so much judg- 
ment, as seldom to have written humour, or described a pleasant 
folly. Let us ascribe to Jonson, the height and accuracy of 
judgment in the ordering of his plots, his choice of characters, 
and maintaining what he had chosen to the end: But let us not 
think him a peifect pattern of imitation, except it be in humour; 
for love, which is the foundation of all comedies in other lan- 
guages, is scarcely mentioned in any of his plays: And for humour 
itself, the poets of this age will be more wary than to imitate the 
meanness of his persons. Gentlemen will now be entertained 
with the follies of each other; and, though they allow Cobb 
and Tib to speak properly, yet they are not much pleased with 
their tankard, or with their rags: And surely their conversation 
can be no jest to them on the theatre, when they would avoid 
it in the street. 

[Almanzor and Almahide, or the Conquest of Granada. The Second Part, 
entered in the Stationers' Registers in February, 1670-71, printed 
in 1672.] 

John Dryden, before 1672. 

Prologue to Julius Caesar. 
In Country Beauties as we often see. 
Something that takes in their simplicity. 
Yet while they charm, they know not they aie fair„ 
And take without their spreading of the snare; 
Such Artless beauty lies in Shakespears wit, 
'Twas well in spight of him whate're he writ. 
His excellencies came, and were not sought, 
His words like casual Atoms made a thought: 
Drew up themselves in rank and file, and writ, 
He wondring how the devil it were such wit. 
Thus like the drunken Tinker in his Play, 
He grew a Prince, and never knew which way. 
He did not know what Trope or Figure meant, 
But to perswade is to be eloquent, 



2il2 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

So in this CcBsar which this day you see, 
Tully ne'r spoke as he makes Anthony. 
Those then that tax his Learning are too blame, 
He knew the thing, but did not know the Name: 
Great Johnson did that Ignorance adore. 
And though he envi'd much, admir'd him more. 
The faultless Johnson equally writ well, 
Shakespear made faults; but then did more excel. 
One close at Guard like some old fencer lay, 
Tother more open, but he shew'd more play. 
In imitation Johnsons wit was shown. 
Heaven made his men, but Shakespear made his own. 
Wise Johnson's talent in observing lay, 
But others' follies still made up his play. 
He drew the like in each elaborate line, 
But Shakespear like a Master did design. 
Johnson with skill dissected humane kind. 
And show'd their faults, that they their faults might find; 
But then as all Anatomists must do, 
He to the meanest of mankind did go. 
And took from Gibbets such as he would show. 
Both are so great that he must boldly dare. 
Who both of 'em does judge and both compare. 
If amongst Poets one more bold there be. 
The man that dare attempt in either way, is he. 
[Covent Garden Drolery, 1672, p. 9.] 

Title-page, 1672. 

/ The Poems of Ben Johnson Junior. Being A Miscelanle of 

V Seriousness, Wit, Mirth, and Mysterie. In Vulpone, The Dream, 

Inter Bevoriale, Songs, &c. Composed by W. S. Gent. . . . 

London, Printed for Tho. Passenger at the three Bibles about 

the middle of London Bridge. 1672. 

George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, 1672. 

Bayes. ... I despise your Johnson and Beaumont, that 
borrow'd all they writ from Nature; I am for fetching it purely 
out of my own fancy, I. 

[The Rehearsal, 1672, Act II, Scene i.] 



TO BEN JONSON 373 

Robert Veel, 1672, 

To Mr. T. D. on his Ingenious Songs and Poems. 
How many Best of Poets have we known ? 
And yet how far those Best have been out-done! 
When Chaucer dy'd, Men of that Age decreed 
A Dismal Fate to all that shou'd succeed : 
Yet when Great Ben, and Mighty Shakespear wrote, 
We were convinc'd those Elder Times did dote. 
[New Court-Songs and Poems, 1672.] 

Tavern Token, 1672. 

Obverse: BEN. lOHNSONS. HEAD. IN; in the field, 1672, 

very bold. Reverse: SHOOE. LANE. 1672; in the field, full 

face bust of Johnson. It is of the penny size. 

[This token from the Ben Jonson Tavern in Shoe Lane is described in 
Notes and Queries, 6th Series, July 24, 1880, p. 75.] 

Sir C. S., 1672. 

Poets and Thieves can scarce be rooted out; 

'Scape ne'er so hardly, they'll have th'other Bout. 

Burnt in the Hand, the Thieves fall to't again; 

And Poets hist, cry They did so to Ben. . . . 

[Prologue to Thomas Shadwell's Epsom-Wells, acted 1672, printed 
1673. The writer was probably Sir Charles Sedley.] 

Anonymous, 1673. 

If he [Dryden] tells us that Johnson writ by art, Shakespeare 

by nature; that Beaumont had judgment, Fletcher wit, that 

Cowley was copious, Denham lofty, Waller smooth, he cannot be 

thought malitious, since he admires them, but lather skilful that 

he knows how to value them. 

[A Description of the Academy of the Athenian: with a Discours held 
there in Vindication of Mr. Dryden's Cottquest of Grenada; Against 
the Author of the Censure of Rota, 1673, p. 32.] 

William Arrowsmith, 1673. 

Pis[auro]. Come Sir you are a judge, what opinion have you 
ot the last new Play? . . . 



374 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Tut. There are many pretenders but you see how few succeed ; 
and bating two or three of this nation as Tasso, Ariosto and 
Guarini, that write indifferently well, the rest must not be named 
for Poesy: we have some three or four, as Fletcher, lohnson, 
Shakespear, Davenant, that have scribbled themselves into the 
bulk of follies and are admired too, but ne're knew the laws of 
heroick or dramatick poesy, nor faith to write true English 
neither. 

[The Reformation, a Comedy, 1673, Act IV, Scene i, pp. 46-7.] 

Edward Howard, 1673. 

The witty Fletcher, and Elaborate Ben, 
And Shakespeare had the first Dramatique Pen : 
In most of their admired Scenes we prove, 
Their Busines or their Passion turns to Love. 

* * * * 
Thus Johnson's Wit we still admire, 
With Beaumont, Fletcher's lasting fire: 
And mighty Shakespear's nimble vein, 
Whose haste we only now complain. 
His Muse first post was fain to go, 

That first from him we Plays might know. 

* * * * 

Shakespear, Beaumont, Fletcher, and Johnson, must be nothing 
with them though such majestick strength of Wit and Judgment 
is due to their Dramatique pieces. 

* * * * 

Ben Johnson said of Shakespear's Works, that where he made 

one blot, he wish'd he had made a thousand. 

[Poems and Essays by a Gentleman of Quality, 1673, pp. 13, 66, Miscel- 
lanies, pp. 24, 81.] 

Anonymous, 1673. 

Thus was he [Dryden] (forsooth) taken to Task, Postponed, 
and there Lash'd on both sides by the two, too unkind Univer- 
sities, Oxford first taking him up, while his Mother Cambridge 
Chastised him severely . . . and next for abusing his Grandsire 



TO BEN JONSON 375 

Shakespeare, and Father Ben, and being very sawcy with others 
of his Elders. 

[Raillerie a La Mode Considered; or the Supercilious Detractor, 1673, 
P- 25.] 

Francis Kirkman, 1673. 

The most part of these Pieces were written by such Penmen 
as were known to be the ablest Artists that ever this Nation 
produced, by Name, Shake-spear, Fletcher, Johnson, Shirley, and 
others; and these Collections are the very Soul of their writings, 
if the witty part thereof may be so termed: And the other small 
Pieces composed by several other Authors are such as have been 
of great fame in this last Age. 

[The Wits or Sport upon Sport, 1673, Preface, sig. A2.I 

John Phillips, 1673. 

There sits Ben Johnson like a Tetrarch, 
With Chaucer, Carew, Shakespear, Petrarch, 
Fletcher and Beaumont, and Menander, 
Plautus and Terence. . . . 
[Maronides, or Virgil Travesty, 1673, p. 108.] 

Arthur Tichborne, 1673. 
Tell me no more of Laureated Ben., 
Shakesphear, and Fletcher, once the wiser men. 
Their Acts ('tis true) were Sublime! yet I see 
They'r all Revisedly compos'd in Thee. 
[Verses before Matthew Stevenson's Poems, 1673, sig. A4.] 

John Dry den, 1673. 
... I will be no more mistaken for my good meaning: I 
know I honour Ben Jonson more than my little critics, because, 
without vanity I may own, I understand him better. ... I 
have not wanted friends, even among strangers, who have 
defended me more strongly, than my contemptible pedant could 
attack me. For the other, he is only like Fungoso in the play, 



376 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

who follows the fashion at a distance, and adores the Fastidious 
Brisk of Oxford. 

[The Dedication, to Sir Charles Sedley, prefixed to The Assignation, 
1673-] 

John Dryden, 1673. 

Prologue to the University of Oxford. 
What Greece, when learning flourished, only knew, 
Athenian judges, you this day renew. 
Here, too, are annual rites to Pallas done. 
And here poetic prizes lost or won. 
Methinks I see you, crowned with olives, sit. 
And strike a sacred horror from the pit. 
A day of doom is this of your decree. 
Where even the best are but by mercy free; 
A day, which none but Jonson durst have wished to see. . . . 



Epilogue to the University of Oxford. 

Fletcher's despised, your Jonson's out of fashion, 

And wit the only drug in all the nation. 

In this low ebb our wares to you are shown. 

By you whose staple authors' worth is known. 

For wit's a manufacture of your own. 

When you, who only can, their scenes have praised. 

We'll back, and boldly say, their price is raised. 

[Spoken by Mr. Hart at the acting of The Silent Woman; The Works of 
John Dryden, ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1885, x, 379-84.] 

John Dryden, 1674. 

Prologue to the University of Oxford, 1674. 
With joy we bring what our dead authors writ. 
And beg from you the value of their wit: 
That Shakespeare's, Fletcher's, and great Jonson's claim. 
May be renewed from those who gave them fame. 
[In The Works of John Dryden, ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1885, x, 324.] 



TO BEN JONSON 377 

John Wright, 1674. 

Our Modern Dramatiques present us with greater Idaea's 
both of Vice and Vertue: Yet Ben: Johnson thought a consider- 
able part of Seneca's Thyestes not improper for the EngHsh 
Stage in his time, when he took most of Sylla's Ghost from 
hence, and so well approved of this way of Introduction, that 
he served himself of it not only in his Tragedy of Cateline, but 
also in his DevilVs an Ass, a comedy, where he makes a Pug his 
Home d' Intrigue. 

[Thyestes a Tragedy, 1674, Dedication.] 

Thomas Rymer, 1674. 

At this time with us many great Wits flourished, but Ben 
Johnson, I think, had all the Critical learning to himself; and 
till of late years England was as free from Criticks as it is from 
Wolves, that a harmless well-meaning Book might pass without 
any danger. But now this priviledge, whatever extraordinary 
Talent it requires, is usurped by the most ignorant; and they 
who are least acquainted with the game are aptest to bark at 
every thing that comes in their way. 

[Preface to the translation of Rapin's Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise 
of Poesie, 1674.] 

Edmund Wheeler, about 1674. 

To give such guests that welcome which is due. 

Would pose a Shakespeer, and a Johnson too. 

[Carmen Laudatorium, or verses on the praise of Mr. Henry Boxe founder 
of Witney Schoole in Oxfordshire (by the scholars of Witney schoole). 
Sloane MS. 1458, p. 14.] 

Samuel Speed, 1675. 

On which the Duke, to shun a scorching doom. 

Perambulated to Ben Johnson's Tomb [i.e. Westminster Abbey], 

Where Shakespear, Spencer, Camden, and the rest. 

Once rising Suns, are now set in the West: 

But still their lustres do so brightly shine. 

That they invite our Worthies there to dine, 

Where their moist Marbles seem for grief to weep. 

That they, but Stone, should sacred Relicks keep : 



378 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And some have fancied that they've heard them sing, 

Within this place is Aganippe's Spring. 

There our ingenious Train have thought it fit 

To change their Diet, and to dine on Wit. 

First with a free consent they all combine 

To pay their visits unto Cataline, 

By whom a Damsel stil'd The Silent Woman, 

Stands in her rich attire, the like by no Man 

Was ever yet beheld; and 'tis her due 

To stand near him, b'ing fair, and silent too: 

For if some Ladies stood but in her stead. 

Their Clappers would go nigh to wake the dead. 

Hard by this famous Dame, with well-grown Locks, 

Behold an ancient well-experienc'd Fox, 

Plac'd as a grave adviser, who with care 

Cryes out, rare Ben Johnson lieth there. 

Next day His Grace, and all his Guests so trim, 

Do Shakespear find, and then they feast on him. 

For two such Dishes at one single meal, 

Would like two Thieves into the Senses steal; 

And such a Surfeit cause, that by their pain. 

They'd judg'd unsafe to feed on Wit again. 

[The Legend of the Thrice-Honorable, Ancient, and Renowned Prince, 
His Grace Humphrey, Duke of S. Pauls Cathedral Walk; in Frag- 
menta Carceris, 1675, Sig. F4 recto and verso. In the lines that 
follow Speed mentions Spenser, Chaucer, Drayton, Camden, and 
others.] 

Edward Phillips, 1675. 

Benjamin Johnson, the most learned, judicious and correct, 
generally so accounted, of our English Comedians, and the more 
to be admired for being so, for that neither the height of natural 
parts, for he was no Shakespear, nor the cost of Extraordinary 
Education; for he is reported but a Bricklayers Son, but his 
own proper Industry and Addiction to Books advanct him to 
this perfection: In three of his Comedies, namely the Fox, 
Alchymist and Silent Woman, he may be compared, in the 
Judgment of Learned Men, for Decorum, Language, and well 



TO BEN JONSON 379 

Humouring of the Parts, as well with the chief of the Ancient 
Greec and Latin Comedians as the prime of Modern Italians, 
who have been judg'd the best of Europe for a happy Vein in 
Comedies, nor is his Bartholmew'-Fair much short of them; as 
for his other Comedies Cinthia's Revells, Poetaster, and the rest, 
let the name of Ben Johnson protect them against whoever 
shall think fit to be severe in censure against them: The Truth 
is, his Tragedies Sejanus and Catiline seem to have in them 
more of an artificial and inflate than of a pathetical and naturally 
Tragic height: In the rest of his Poetry, for he is not wholly 
Dramatic, as his Underwoods, Epigrams, &c. he is sometimes 
bold and strenuous, sometimes Magisterial, sometimes Lepid and 
full enough of conceit, and sometimes a Man as other Men are. 

* * * * 

John Fletcher, one of the happy Triumvirat (the other two 
being Johnson and Shakespear) of the Chief Dramatic Poets of 
our- Nation, in the last foregoing Age, among whom there might 
be said to be a symmetry of perfection, while each excelled in 
his peculiar way: Ben. Johnson in his elaborate pains and 
knowledge of Authors, Shakespear in his pure vein of wit, and 
natural Poetic heighth; Fletcher in a courtly Elegance, and 
gentle familiarity of style, and withal a wit and invention so 
overflowing, that the luxuriant branches thereof were frequently 
thought convenient to be lopt off by his almost inseperable 
companion Francis Beaumont. 

* * * * 

, Richard Brome, a Servant to Ben. Johnson; a Servant suitable 
' to such a Master, and who what with his faithful service and the 
sympathy of his Genius, was thought worthy his particular 
commendation in Verse; whatever Instructions he might have 
from his Master Johnson, he certainly by his own natural parts 
improved in a great heighth, and at last became not many 
parasangues inferior to him in fame by divers noted Comedies. 

* * * * 

Thomas Decker, a High-flier in wit, even against Ben. Johnson 
himself in his Comedy call'd The Untrussing of the humorous 
Poet; besides which he wrote many others. 

[Theatrum Poetarum, 1675, pp. 19, 108, 157, 175.] 



380 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Thomas Shadwell, 1675. 

. . . And I doubt not but the Candid Reader will forgive the 
Faults, when he considers that the great Design was to entertain 
the Town with variety of Musick, curious Dancing, splendid 
Scenes and Machines; and that I do not, nor ever did intend to 
value my self upon the writing of this. Play. For I had rather 
be Author of one Scene of Comedy, like some of Ben. Johnson's, 
than of all the best Plays of this kind, that have been, or ever 
shall be written. 

[Preface to Psyche, 1675.] 

Sir Francis Fane, 1675. 

Yet these are they, who durst expose the Age 
Of the great Wonder of our English Stage. 
Whom Nature seem'd to form for your delight. 
And bid him speak, as she bid Shakespeare write. 
Those Blades indeed are Cripples in their Art 
Mimmick his Foot, but not his speaking part. 
Let them the Traytor or Volpone try. 

Could they 

Rage like Cethegus, or like Cassius die, 
They ne'er had sent to Paris for such Fancies, 
As Monster's heads, and Merry Andrew's Dances. 
[Epilogue to Love in the Dark, 1675.] 

Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset, 1675. 

Epilogue on the Revival of Every Man in his Humour. 
Entreaty shall not serve, nor violence. 
To make me speak in such a play's defence; 
A play, where Wit and Humour do agree 
To break all practis'd laws of Comedy. 
The scene (what more absurd!) in England lies, 
No gods descend, nor dancing devils rise; 
No captive prince from unknown country brought, 
No battle, nay, there's scarce a duel fought: 
And something yet more sharply might be said, 
But I consider the poor author's dead : 



TO BEN JONSON 381 

Let that be his excuse. Now for our own: 

Why, faith, in my opinion, we need none. 

The parts were fitted well ; but some will say, 

"Pox on them, rogues, what made them choose this play? " 

I do not doubt but you will credit me. 

It was not choice but mere necessity. 

To all our writing friends in town we sent, 

But not a wit durst venture out in Lent: 

Have patience but till Easter-term, and then 

You shall have jigg and hobby-horse again. 

* * * * 

For diverse weighty reasons 'twas thought fit 
Unruly Sense should still to Rhyme submit: 
This, the most wholesome law we ever made, 
So strictly in this epilogue obey'd, 
Sure no man here will ever dare to break — 

[Enter Ghost of Jonson, interrupting:] 
Hold, and give way! for I myself will speak. 
Can you encourage so much insolence. 
And add new faults still to the great offence. 
Your ancestors so rashly did commit 
Against the mighty powers of Art and Wit; 
When they condemn'd those noble works of mine, 
Sejanus, and my best-lov'd Catiline? 
Repent, or on your guilty heads shall fall 
The curse of many a rhyming pastoral. 
The three bold Beauchamps shall revive again, 
And with the London 'prentice conquer Spain. 
All the dull follies of the former age 
Shall find applause on this corrupted stage; 
But if you pay the great arrears of praise 
So long since due to my much-injur'd plays. 
From all past crimes I first will set you free. 
And then inspire some one to write like me. 
[Poems upon Several Occasions, 1675, p. 29.] 



382 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Anonymous, about 1676. 

Ben Johnson, traviling from London to Oxford upon a Valen- 
tine's day, meets an Highwayman. 

Ben Johnson. Flee hence, or by thy Coat of Steele 

rie make thy heart my brazen bullet feele, 
And send that thrice as theevish soule of thine 
To Hell to be the Devell's valentine. 

Reply by y" Hman. 
Robber. Art thou great Ben, or y^ levived ghost 

Of famous Shakespeare, or some drunken host 

That being tipsy w*^ thy muddy beer 

Dost think thy rhyme shall dawnt my soule w*'' feare. 

Know this, base slave, that I am one of those 

Can take a purse as well in verse as proes. 

And w° thou art dead w right this upon thy herse 

Here ly's a Poet y* was robb'd in verse. 

[Common-place book in the Diocesan Registry at Worcester, folio 
73 b. The manuscript bears the name of John Pryce, Chancellor 
of the Diocese from 1696 to 1705, and the date 1676. The verses 
appear also in Miisartim DelicicE, 1655; see the entry "Sir John 
Mennis and Dr. James Smith, 1655."] 

James Duport, 1676. 

In Benjaminum Jonsonum, Poetam Laureatiim , &' 
Dramaticorum sui Seculi facile Principem. 
Jonsone, Angliacae decus immortale Camaenae, 
Magne Pater Vatum, Aoniae Coryphaee catervse, 
Benjamine, (tibi nee vanum nominis omen) 
Cui tam dextera Pallas adest, tam dexter Apollo; 
Laurigeros egit quoties tua Musa triumphos! 
Laudibus en quantis, quanto evehit Anglia plausu 
Jonsonum, plefii moderantem jrcBna theatri! 
Per te Scena loqui didicit: tibi Candida vena, 
Et jocus innocuus; nee quem tua fabula mordet 
Dente Theonino, sed pravis aspera tantum 
Moribus, insanum multo sale defricat aevum. 



TO BEN JONSON 383 

Nee Fescennino ludit tua carmine Musa; 
Nee petulans aures amat incestare theatri, 
Aut foedare oculos obseoenis improba nugis : 
Sunt tibi tarn castee Veneres, plenaeque pudoris. 
Seenam nulla tuam perfrieta fronte puella 
Intrat, nee quenquam tenerse capit illiee vocis, 
Nee speetatorem patranti frangit ocello. 
Dramate tu reeto, tu linguae idiomate puro, 
Exornas soceosque l.eves, grand esque eothurnos. 
Si Lyricus, tu jam Flaccus; si Comieus, alter 
Plautus es ingenio, tersive Terentius oris 
Anglieus, aut, Grseeos si forte imitere, Menander, 
Cujus versu usus, ceu saero Emblemate, Paulus: 
Sin Tragicus, magni jam praeeeptore Neronis 
Altius eloqueris, Seneca & praedivite major, 
(Ingenii at tantum dives tu divite vena,) 
Grandius ore tonas, verborum & fulmina vibras. 
Tu eaptatores, loeupleti hamata, senique, 
Munera mittentes, Vulpino decipis astu 
Callidus ineantos, & fraudem fraude retexis: 
Atque haeredipetas corvos deludis hiantes, 
Vana spe lactans, eera nee seribis in ima. 
Per te nee leno aut meretrix impune per urbem 
Grassatur, stolidae & tendit sua retia pubi. 
Nee moeehus, nee fur, ineastigatus oberrat, 
Illaesusve, tuae prudenti verbere seenae. 
Sic vitiiim omne vajer tuus ipse ut Horatius olim, 
Tangis, & admissus circum prcscordia ludis. 
Per te audax Catilina, nefas horrendus Alastor 
Dum struit infandum, caedesque & funera passim 
Molitur Romae, facundi Consulis ore 
Ingenioque perit; patriae & dum perfidus enses 
Intentat jugulo, franguntur coUa Cethegi; 
Quicquid Sylla minax, ipsis e faueibus Orci, 
Et Fortunati demurmuret umbra tyranni: 
Nempe faces flammasque extinguit flumine laetls 
Tullius, Angliaeo melius sic ore loeutus. 



384 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Culmine tu rapiens magnum devolvis ab alto 
Sejaniim; ille potens populum, pavidiimque senatum 
Rexerat imperio nuper, dum solus habenas 
Tractaret Romse, nutu & tremefecerat orbem, 
CcEsare confisus; nunc verso cardine rerum 
Mole sua miser ipse cadens, & pondere pressus, 
Concutit attonitum lapsu graviore theatrum, 
Ingentemque trahit turba plaudente ruinam. 
Sic nullum exemplo crimen tu linquis inultum, 
Sive & avarities, & amor vesanus habendi, 
Sive sit ambitio, & dominandi caeca libido. 
Crimina sic hominum versu tortore flagellas, 
Et vitia exponis toti ludibria plebi; 
Protinus ilia tuo sordent explosa theatro, 
Dramaque virtutis schola fit, praelectio scena, 
Histrio philosophus, morum vel denique censor, 
Et ludi, Jonsone, tui sic seria ducunt. 
Ergo tua effigies, nostris spectanda plateis, 
(Quam melius toti ostendit tua Pagina mundo) 
Non hominis, sed viva Poesios extat imago; 
Benjamini icon, Capitisque insigne Poetae; 
Nomen & ingenii, Jonsoni nomen habetur. 
[MuscB SubsecivcB, 1676, pp. 8-9.] 

Anonymous, 1676, 

When our Players were come together in a chamber, most of 

the vagrant Town-Butterflies flock'd into their presence, amongst 

which some were unsatisfied at their cold reception. They all 

began to discourse of Plaies, Poetry and renowned Authors of 

Romances: Never was more noise made in any Chamber, unless 

at a Quarrel. And above all the rest the Poet, with a ring of 

admirers about him of the chiefest Wits of the Town, was tearing 

his Throat with telling them he had seen Shakespear, B. Johnson, 

Fletcher, Corneille; had drunk many a Quart with Saint Amant, 

Davenant, Shirley, and Beys; and lost good Friends by the death 

of Rotrou, Denham and Cowly. 

[Scarron's Comical Romance: Or, a Facetious History of a Company of 
Stroiuling Stage-Players, 1676, p. 17. In the French original no 
mention of the EngHsh writers is made.] 



TO BEN JONSON 385 

Thomas Shadwell, 1676. 

Epistle Dedicatory. 
. . . But the same People, to my great Comfort, damn all 
Mr. Johnson's Plays, who was incomparably the best Dramatick 
Poet that ever was, or, I believe, ever will be; and I had rather 
be Author of one Scene in his best Comedies, than of any Play 
this Age has produc'd. 

* * * * 

Prologue. 
For Wit, like China, should long buried lie, 
Before it ripens to good Comedy; 
A thing we ne'er have seen since Johnson s Days: 
And but a few of his were perfect Plays. 
Now Drudges of the Stage must oft appear, 
They must be bound to scribble twice a Year. 
[The Virtuoso, 1676.] 

William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, 1676. 

A great Noyse within, then one enters presently, and says this: 

Oh Gentlemen, there is such a Civill Warr amongst us within, 

the horriblest mistake that ever was, in the World. Wee have 

spoken a wronge Prologue, never such a Stage Error, not in all 

the raigne of Shakspeare, Jonson, or of Fletcher. 

[Prologue to The Humorous Lovers, Harl. MS. 7367, p. 3.] 

William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle, 1677. 

Codsh[ead]. Good Sir, try some English Poets, as Shakespear. 

Doct[or]. You had as good give him preserv'd Apricocks, he 
has too much Wit for him, and then Fletcher and Beaumont have 
so much of the Spanish Perfume of Romances and Novels. . . . 

The last Remedy, like Pigeons to the soles of the feet, must be 
to apply my dear Friend Mr. Johnson's Works, but they must be 
apply 'd to his head. 

Codsh. Oh, have a care. Doctor, he hates Ben. Johnson, he 
has an Antipathy to him. 

Cramb[o]. Oh, I hate Johnson, oh oh, dull dull, oh oh, no Wit. 

26 



386 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Doct. 'Tis you are dull . . . dull! he was the Honour of his 
Nation, and the Poet of Poets. 

[The Triumphant Widow, 1677, pp. 60-61.] 

Sir Carr Scrope, about 1677. 

When Shakespear, Johnson, Fletcher, rul'd the Stage, 

They took so bold a Freedom with the Age, 

That there were scarce a Knave, or Fool, in Town 

Of any Note, but had his Picture shown. 

[In Defence of Satyr, A Poem in Imitation of Horace, lib. I. sat. 4. This 
work is mentioned by Anthony a Wood; and the Earl of Rochester, 
in An Allusion to the Tenth Satyr of the First Book of Horace, 
Poems on several occasions, 1685, p. 39, quotes the above opening 
lines.] 

John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, 1677-79. 

A jeast in scorn points out and hits the thing 

IVIore home than the Morosest Satyrs sting. 

Shake-spear and Johnson did herein excell. 

And might in this be imitated well. 

* * * * 

But does not Dryden find ev'n Johnson dull? 

Fletcher and Beaumont uncorrect, and full 

Of lewd Lines, as he calls 'em? Shake-spear' s stile 

Stiff and affected ; to his own the while 

Allowing all the justness that his Pride 

So arrogantly had to these deny'd? 

[Poems on Several Occasions, 1680; from second ed. of 1685, as reprinted 
in J. E. Spingarn's Critical Essays of the Seventeenth Century, 1908, 
ii, 283-84.] 

Thomas Rymer, 1678. 

I provided me some of those Master-pieces of Wit, so renown'd- 
every-where and so edifying to the Stage, — I mean the choicest 
and most applauded English Tragedies of this last age, as Rollo, 
A King and no King, the Maids Tragedy by Beaumont and 
Fletcher, Othello and Julius Caesar by Shakespear, and Catiline 
by Worthy Ben. 



TO BEN JONSON 387 

Let me only anticipate a little in behalf of the Catiline, and 
now tell my thoughts, that though the contrivance and oeconomy 
is faulty enough, yet we there find (besides what is borrow'd 
from others) more of Poetry and of good thought, more of 
Nature and of Tragedy, then peradventure can be scrap't 
together from all those other Plays. 

Nor can I be displeas'd with honest Ben, when he rather 

chooses to borrow a Melon of his Neighbour than to treat us 

with a Pumpion of his own growth. 

[The Tragedies of the Last Age Considered and Examined by the Practice 
of the Ancients and by the Common Sense of all Ages, 1678; in 
Critical Essays of the Seventeenth Century, ed. J. E. Spingarn, 1908, 
ii, 182, 206.] 

Thomas Tenison, 1678. 

The Latine translation of them [Bacon's Essays] was a work 
performed by divers hands; by those of Dr. Racket (late Bishop 
of Lichfield), Mr. Benjamin Johnson (the learned and judicious 
Poet), and some others, whose names I once heard from Dr. 
Rawley, [Bacon's chaplain] but I cannot now recal them. 

[Baconiana, 1678; cited in Notes and Queries, loth Series, February 4, 
1905, P- 94-1 

John Oldham, 1678. 

Ode Upon the Works of Ben Johnson. 
Written in 1678. 
L 
Great Thou! whom 'tis a Crime almost to dare to praise. 
Whose firm establish'd, and unshaken Glories stand, 
And proudly their own Fame command, 
Above our pow'r to lessen or to raise. 

And all, but the few Heirs of thy brave Genius, and thy Bays; 
Hail mighty Founder of our Stage! For so I dare 
Entitle thee, nor any modern Censures fear, 
Nor care what thy unjust Detractors say; 
They'll say perhaps, that others did Materials bring, 
That others did the first Foundations lay. 
And glorious 'twas (we grant) but to begin: 



388 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

But thou alone could'st finish the design, 

All the fair Model, and the Workmanship was thine: 

Some bold Advent'rers might have been before, 

Who durst the unknown world explore; 

By them it was survey'd at distant view. 

And here and there a Cape, and Line they drew, 

Which only serv'd as hints, and marks to thee, 

Who wast reserv'd to make the full discovery: 

Art's Compass to thy painful search we owe. 

Whereby thou went'st so far, and we may after go. 

By that we may Wit's vast, and trackless Ocean try. 

Content no longer, as before. 

Dully to coast along the shore. 

But steer a course more unconfin'd, and free. 

Beyond the narrow bounds, that pent Antiquity. 

II. 
Never till thee the Theater possest 
A Prince with equal Pow'r, and Greatness blest, 
No Government, or Laws it had 
To strengthen and establish it, 
Till thy great hand the Scepter sway'd. 
But groan'd under a wretched Anarchy of Wit: 
LTnform'd, and void was then its Poesie, 
Only some prse-existing Matter we 
Perhaps could see. 
That might foretel what was to be; 
A rude, and undigested Lump it lay. 
Like the old Chaos, e'er the birth of Light, and Day, 
Till thy brave Genius like a new Creator came. 
And undertook the mighty Frame; 
No shuffled Atoms did the well-built work compose 
It from no lucky hit of blund'ring Chance arose 
(As some of this great Fabrick idly dream) 
But wise, all-seeing Judgment did contrive, 
And knowing Art its Graces give: 
No sooner did thy Soul with active Force and Fire 
The dull and heavy Mass inspire. 



TO BEN JONSON 3^9 

But strait throughout it let us see 

Proportion, Order, Harmony, 

And every part did to the whole agree. 

And strait appear'd a beauteous new-made world of Poetry. 

III. 
Let dull, and ignorant Pretenders Art condemn 
(Those only Foes to Art, and Art to them) 
The meer Fanaticks, and Enthusiasts in Poetry 
(For Schismaticks in that, as in Religion be) 
Who make't all Revelation, Trance, and Dream. 
Let them despise her Laws, and think 
That Rules and Forms the Spirit stint: 
Thine was no mad, unruly Frenzy of the brain, 
Which justly might deserve the Chain, 
'Twas brisk, and mettled, but a manag'd Rage, 
Sprightly as vig'rous Youth, and cool as temp'rate Age: 
Free, like thy Will, it did all Force disdain, 
But suffer'd Reason's loose and easie rein, 
By that it suffer'd to be led. 
Which did not curb Poetick Liberty, but guide: 
Fancy, that wild and haggard Faculty, 
Untam'd in most, and let at random fly. 
Was wisely govern 'd and reclaim'd by thee: 
Restraint, and Discipline was made endure, 
And by thy calm and milder Judgment brought to lure;. 
Yet when 'twas at some nobler Quarry sent, 
W^ith bold, and tow'ring wings it upward went, 
Not lessen 'd at the greatest height. 
Not turn'd by the most giddy flights of dazling Wit. 

IV. 
Nature, and Art together met, and joyn'd. 
Made up the Character of thy great Mind. 
That like a bright and glorious Sphere, 
Appear'd with numerous Stars embellish'd o'er. 
And much of Light to thee, and much of Influence bore. 
This was the strong Intelligence, whose pow'r 
Turn'd it about, and did the unerring motions steer: 



390 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Concurring both like vital Seed and Heat, 

The noble Births they joyntly did beget, 

And hard 'twas to be thought, 

Which most of force to the great Generation brought: 

So mingling Elements compose our Bodies frame, 

Fire, Water, Earth, and Air, 

Alike their just Proportions share. 

Each undistinguish'd still remains the same, 

Yet can't we say that cither's here or there, 

But all, we know not how, are scatter'd ev'ry where, 

V. 
Sober and grave was still the Garb thy Muse put on, 
No tawdry careless slattern Dress, 
Nor starch'd, and formal with Affectedness, 
Nor the cast Mode, and Fashion of the Court, and Town: 
But neat, agreeable, and janty 'twas, 
Well fitted, it sate close in every place. 
And all became with an uncommon Air, and Grace: 
Rich, costly and substantial was the stuff. 
Nor barely smooth, nor yet too coarsly rough: 
No refuse, ill-patch'd Shreds o' th' Schools, 
The motly wear of read, and learned Fools; 
No French Commodity which now so much does take. 
And our own better Manufacture spoil, 
Nor was it ought of forein Spoil; 
But Staple all, and all of English Growth and Make; 
What Flow'rs so'er of Art it had, were found 
No tinsel slight Embroideries, 
But all appear'd either the native Ground, 
Or twisted, wrought, and interwoven with the Piece. 

VI. 
Plain Humor, shewn with her whole various Face, 
Not mask'd with any antick Dress, 
Nor screw'd in forc'd ridiculous Grimace 
(The gaping Rabbles dull delight, 
And more the Actor's than the Poet's Wit) 
Such did she enter on thy Stage, 
And such was represented to the wond'ring Age: 



TO BEN JONSON 391 

Well wast thou skill'd, and read In human kind; 

In every wild fantastick Passion of his mind, 

Didst into all his hidden Inclinations dive 

What each from Nature does receive, 

Or Age, or Sex, or Quality, or Country give; 

What custom too, that mighty Sorceress, 

Whose pow'rful Witchcraft does transform 

Enchanted Man to several monstrous Images, 

Makes this an odd, and freakish Monky turn, 

And that a grave and solemn Ass appear. 

And all a thousand beastly shapes of Folly wear: 

Whate'er Caprice or Whimsie leads awry 

Perverted and seduc'd Mortality, 

Or does incline, and byass it 

From what's Discreet, and Wise, and Right, and Good, and Fit; 

All in thy faithful Glass were so express'd. 

As if they were Reflections of thy Breast, 

As if they had been stamp'd on thy own mind, 

And thou the universal vast Idea of Mankind. 

VII. 
Never didst thou with the same Dish repeated cloy, 
Tho every Dish, well cook'd by thee, 
Contain'd a plentiful Variety 
To all that could sound relishing Palats be. 
Each Regale with new Delicacies did invite, 
Courted the Tast, and rais'd the Appetite: 
Whate'er fresh dainty Fops in season were 
To garnish and set out thy Bill of Fare, 
(Those never found to fail throughout the year. 
For seldom that ill natur'd Planet rules, 
That plagues a Poet with a dearth of Fools) 
What thy strict Observation e'er survey 'd. 
From the fine luscious Spark of high and courtly Breed, 
Down to the dull, insipid Cit, 
Made thy pleas'd Audience entertainment fit, 
Serv'd up with all the grateful Poignancies of Wit. 



392 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

VIII. 

Most Plays are writ like Almanacks of late, 

And serve one only Year, one only State; 

Another makes them useless, stale, and out of date; 

But thine were wisely calculated fit 

For each Meridian, every Clime of Wit. 

For all succeeding Time, and after-age. 

And all Mankind might thy vast Audience sit, 

And the whole World be justly made thy Stage: 

Still they shall taking be, and ever new, 

Still keep in vogue in spite of all the damning Crew; 

Till the last Scene of this great Theatre, 

Clos'd, and shut down. 

The numerous Actors all retire. 

And the grand Play of human Life be done. 

IX. 
Beshrew those envious Tongues, who seek to blast thy Bays, 
Who Spots in thy bright Fame would find, or raise, 
And say it only shines with borrow'd Rays; 
Rich in thy self, to whose unbounded store 
Exhausted Nature could vouchsafe no more: 
Thou could'st alone the Empire of the Stage maintain, 
Could'st all its Grandeur, and its Port sustain, 
Nor needest others Subsidies to pay, 
Needest no Tax on forein, or thy native Country lay. 
To bear the charges of thy purchas'd Fame, 
But thy own Stock could raise the same. 
Thy sole Revenue all the vast Expence defray: 
Yet like some mighty Conqueror in Poetry, 
Design'd by Fate of choice to be 
Founder of its new universal Monarchy, 
Boldly thou didst the learned World invade. 
Whilst all around thy pow'rful Genius sway'd. 
Soon vanquish'd Rome, and Greece were made submit. 
Both were thy humble Tributaries made. 
And thou return'dst in Triumph with her captive Wit. 



TO BEN JONSON 393 

X. 

Unjust, and more ill-natur'd those, 

Thy spiteful, and malicious Foes, 

Who on thy happiest Talent fix a lye. 

And call 'that Slowness, which was Care and Industry. 

Let me (with Pride so to be guilty thought) 

Share all thy wish'd Reproach, and share thy shame. 

If Diligence be deem'd a fault, 

If to be faultless must deserve their Blame: 

Judge of thy self alone (for none there were 

Could be so just, or could be so severe) 

Thou thy own Works didst strictly try 

By known and uncontested Rules of Poetry, 

And gav'st thy Sentence still impartially: 

With rigor thou arraign'st each guilty Line, 

And spar'dst no criminal Sense, because 'twas thine: 

LTnbrib'd with Labour, Love, or Self-conceit, 

(For never, or too seldom we. 

Objects too near us, our own Blemishes can see) 

Thou didst not small'st Delinquencies acquit. 

But saw'st them to Correction all submit, 

Saw'st execution done on all convicted Crimes of Wit. 

XL 
Some curious Painter, taught by Art to dare 
(For they with Poets in that Title share) 
When he would undertake a glorious Frame 
Of lasting W'orth, and fadeless as his Fame; 
Long he contrives, and weighs the bold Design, 
Long holds his doubting hand e'er he begin. 
And justly then proportions every stroke, and line, 
And oft he brings it to review, 
And oft he does deface, and dashes oft anew, 
And mixes Oyls to make the flitting Colours dure. 
To keep 'em from the tarnish of injurious Time secure; 
Finish'd at length in all that Care, and Skill can do, 
The matchless Piece is set to publick View, 
And all surpriz'd about it wond'ring stand. 



394 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

And tho no name be found below, 

Yet strait discern th'unimitable hand, 

And strait they cry 'tis Titian, or 't's Angela: 

So thy brave Soul that scorn'd all cheap and easie ways. 

And trod no common road to Praise, 

Would not with rash, and speedy Negligence proceed, 

(For whoe'er saw Perfection grow in haste? 

Or that soon done which must for ever last?) 

But gently did advance with wary heed. 

And shew'd that mastery is most in justness read: 

Naught ever issued from thy teeming Breast, 

But what had gone full time, could write exactly best. 

And stand the sharpest Censure, and defie the rigid'st Test. 

XII. 
'Twas thus th' Almighty Poet (if we dare 
Our weak, and meaner Acts with his compare) 
When he the World's fair Poem did of old design, 
That W'ork, which now must boast no longer date than thine; 
Tho 'twas in him alike to will and do, 
Tho the same Word that spoke, could make it too. 
Yet would he not such quick and hasty methods use. 
Nor did an instant (which it might) the great effect produce: 
But when th' All-wise himself in Council sate, 
Vouchsaf'd to think and be deliberate. 
When Heaven consider'd, and th' Eternal Wit and Sense, 
Seem'd to take time, and care, and pains, 
It shew'd that some uncommon Birth, 
That something worthy of a God was coming forth ; 
Nought uncorrect there was, nought faulty there. 
No point amiss did in the large voluminous Piece appear. 
And when the glorious Author all survey'd, 
Survey'd whate'er his mighty Labours made, 
Well-pleas'd he was to find 

All answer'd the great Model, and Idea of his Mind: 
Pleas'd at himself He in high wonder stood. 
And much his Power, and much his Wisdom did applaud, 
To see how all was Perfect, all transcendent Good. 



TO BEN JONSON 395 

XIII. 

Let meaner spirits stoop to low precarious Fame, 

Content on gross and course Applause to live, 

And what the dull, and sensless Rabble give, 

Thou didst it still with noble scorn contemn; 

Nor would'st that wretched Alms receive. 

The poor subsistence of some bankrupt, sordid name: 

Thine was no empty Vapor, rais'd beneath. 

And form'd of common Breath, 

The false, and foolish Fire, that's whisk'd about 

By popular Air, and glares a while, and then goes out; 

But 'twas a solid, whole, and perfect Globe of light, 

That shone all over, was all over bright, 

And dar'd all sullying Clouds, and fear'd no darkning night; 

Like the gay Monarch of the Stars and Sky, 

Who wheresoe'er he does display 

His Sovereign Lustre, and Majestick Ray, 

Strait all the less, and petty Glories nigh 

Vanish and shrink away. 

O'erwhelm'd, and swallow'd by the greater blaze of Day; 

With such a strong, an awful and victorious Beam 

Appear'd, and ever shall appear, thy Fame, 

View'd, and ador'd by all th' undoubted Race of Wit, 

Who only can endure to look on it. 

The rest o'ercame with too much light. 

With too much brightness dazled, or extinguish'd quite: 

Restless, and uncontroul'd it now shall pass 

As wide a course about the World as he, 

And when his long-repeated Travels cease 

Begin a new and vaster Race, 

And still tread round the endless Circle of Eternity. 

[Poems and Translations, in The Works of Mr. John Oldham, 1703, 
pp. 327-43-] 

John Oldham, 1679. 

The First Satyr he [the author] drew by Sylla's Ghost in the 
great Johnson, which may be perceived by some Strokes and 



396 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Touches therein, however short they come of the Original. 

[Advertisement prefixed to his Satyrs upon the Jesuits: Written in the 
Year i6yg. There are certain other passages in the Satyrs which 
show indebtedness to Jonson's Catiline; see W. D. Briggs, The 
Influence of Jonson's Tragedy in the Seventeenth Century, Anglia, 
XXXV, 296.J 

John Martyn, Henry Herringman, and Richard Mariot, 1679. 

The Book-sellers to the Reader. 
If our care and endeavours to do our Authors right (in an 
incorrupt and genuine Edition of their Works) and thereby to 
gratifie and oblige the Reader, be but requited with a suitable 
entertainment, we shall be encourag'd to bring Ben Johnson's 
two Volumes into one, and publish them in this form; and also 
to reprint Old Shakespear. 

[Prefixed to the Second Foho of Beaumont and Fletcher, 1679.] 

John Dryden, 1679. 

The difference between Shakespeare and Fletcher, in their 
plottings, seems to be this: that Shakespeare generally moves 
more terror, and Fletcher more compassion: for the first had a 
more masculine, a bolder, and more fiery genius; the second, 
a more soft and womanish. In the mechanic beauties of the 
plot, which are the observation of the three unities, time, place, 
and action, they are both deficient; but Shakespeare most. 
Ben Jonson reformed those errors in his comedies, yet one of 
Shakespeare's was regular before him; which is. The Merry Wives 
of Windsor. For what remains concerning the design, you are 
to be referred to our English critic. . . . 

It is one of the excellences of Shakespeare, that the manners 
of his persons are generally apparent, and you see their bent 
and inclinations. Fletcher comes far short of him in this, as 
indeed he does almost in everything. There are but glimmerings 
of manners in most of his comedies, which run upon adventures; 
and in his tragedies, Rollo, Otto, the King and no King, Melan- 
tius, and many others of his best, are but pictures shown you 
in the twilight; you know not whether they resemble vice or 
virtue, and they are either good, bad, or indifferent, as the present 



TO BEN JONSON 397 

scene requires it. But of all poets, this commendation is to be 
given to Ben Jonson, that the manners, even of the most in- 
considerable persons in his plays, are everywhere apparent. 

To return once more to Shakespeare; no man ever drew so 
many characters, or generally distinguished them better from 
one another, excepting only Jonson. I will instance but in one, 
to show the copiousness of his invention; it is that of Caliban, 
or the monster, in The Tempest. 

[Preface, The Grounds of Criticism in Tragedy, prefixed to Troilus and 
Cressida, or Truth Found too Late, 1679.] 

Thomas Shadwell, 1679. 

Nor are your [Sir Charles Sedley's] writings unequal to any 

man's of this age; not to speak of abundance of excellent copies 

of verses, you have in the Mulberry Garden shown true wit, 

humour, and satire of a comedy; and in Antony and Cleopatra 

the true spirit of a tragedy; the only one (except two of Jonson's 

and one of Shakespear's) wherein Romans are made to speak 

and do like Romans. 

[The Dedication, to Sir Charles Sedley, prefixed to A True Widow, 
1679.] 

Samuel Butler, about 1680. 

When he ["a small poet"] writes Anagrams, he uses to lay 
the Outsides of his Verses even (like a Bricklayer) by a Lii e of 
Rhime and Acrostic, and fill the Middle with Rubbish— In this 
he imitates Ben Johnson, but in nothing else. (P. 53.) 
* * * * 

Men of the quickest apprehensions, and aptest Geniuses to 
anything they undertake, do not always prove the greatest 
Masters in it. For there is more Patience and Flegme required 
in those that attaine to any Degree of Perfection, then is com- 
monly found in the Temper of active, and ready wits, that soone 
tire and will not hold out; as the swiftest Race-horse will not 
perform a longe Jorney so well as a sturdy dull Jade. Hence it 
is that Virgil who wanted much of that Natural easines of wit 
that Ovid had, did nevertheless with hard Labour and long 



39^ AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

St'idy in the end, arrive at a higher perfection then the other 
with all his Dexterity of wit, but less Industry could attaine to: 
The same we may observe of Johnson, and Shakespeare. For 
he that is able to thinke long and study well, will be sure to fiinde out 
better things then another man can hit upon suddenly, though 
of more quick and ready Parts, which is commonly hut chance, 
and the other Art and Judgment. (P. 398.) 

* * * * 

Ben: Johnson in saying (in one of his Prologues) All Gall and 
Coprace from his Inke he drayneth, only a little Salt remaineth 
&c., would in these more Censorious times be chargd with a 
kinde of Nonsense, for though Gall and Coprace be usd in Inke 
Salt never was. (P. 407.) 

* * * * 

He [Dryden] complaynd of B. Johnson for stealing 40 Sceanes 
out of Plautus. Set a Thief to finde out a Thief. (P. 428.) 
[Characters and Passages from Note-Books, ed. A. R. Waller, 1908.] 

John Oldham, 1680. 

Perhaps, fond Fool, thou sooth'st thy self in dream. 
With hopes of purchasing a lasting Name? 
Thou think'st perhaps thy Trifles shall remain, 
Like sacred Cowley, and immortal Ben} 
[A Satyr; in The Works of Mr. John Oldham, 1703, p. 416.] 

John Dryden, 1680. 

All translation, I suppose, may be reduced to these three 
heads. 

First, that of metaphrase, or turning an author word by word, 
and line by line, from one language into another. Thus, or 
near this manner, was Horace his Art of Poetry translated by 
Ben Jonson. . . . 

We see Ben Jonson could not avoid obscurity in his literal 
translation of Horace, attempted in the same compass of lines: 
nay, Horace himself could scarce have done it to a Greek poet: — 

Brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio: 
either perspicuity or gracefulness will frequently be wanting. 
[Preface to Translation of Ovid's Epistles, 1680.] 



TO BEN JONSON 399 

Nathaniel Lee, 1680. 

Therefore I hope, as your Lordship's Great Uncle shone upon 

the mighty Ben with a full Favour, (tho' my best Merits are 

not the ten thousandth part of his smallest Labours) your 

Lordship's infinite Goodness will accept of my honest Intentions, 

which to your Lordship's Service shall be ever humbly offer'd. 

[The Dedication, to the Earl of Pembroke, prefixed to Caesar Borgia> 
1680.] 

Nathaniel Lee, 1681. 

. . . There are some Subjects that require but half the strength 

of a great Poet, but when Greece or Old Rome come in play, the 

Nature, Wit and Vigour of foremost Shakespear, the Judgment 

and Force of Johnson, with all his borrowed Mastery from the 

Antients, will scare suffice for so terrible a Grapple. 

[Dedication, to the Earl of Dorset and Middlesex, prefixed to Lucius 
Junius Brutus, 1681.] 

Anonymous, 1681. 

I can't, without infinite ingratitude to the Memory of those 

excellent persons, omit the first Famous Masters in't, of our 

Nation, Venerable Shakespear and the great Ben Johnson. 

[An Essay on Dramatick Poetry, appended to Amaryllis to Tityrus. 
Being the First Heroick Harange of the excellent pen of Monsieur 
Scudery . . . Englished by a Person of Honour, 1681, p. 66.] 

John Dryden, 1681. 

A famous modern poet used to sacrifice every year a Statins 
to Virgil's manes; and I have indignation enough to burn a 
D'Ambois annually, to the memory of Jonson. 

[The Spanish Friar, 1681, Dedication.] 

Andrew Marvell, 1681. 

As one put drunk into the packet-boat, 

Tom May was hurry'd hence, and did not know't; 

But was amazed on th' Elysian side. 

And, with an eye uncertain gazing wide, 

Could not determine in what place he was, 



400 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

(For whence, in Steven's ally, trees or grass?) 
Nor -v^here the Pope's-Head, nor the Mitre lay. 
Signs by which still he found and lost his way. 
At last, while doubtfully he all compares. 
He saw near hand, as he imagin'd. Ares. 
Such did he seem for corpulence and port, 
But 'twas a man much of another sort; 
'Twas Ben, that in the dusk}^ laurel shade, 
Amongst the chorus of old poets, laid, 
Sounding of ancient heroes, such as were 
The subject's safety, and the rebel's fear: 
And how a double-headed vulture eats 
Brutus and Cassius, the people's cheats; 
But, seeing May, he varied streight his song, 
Gently to signifie that he was wrong. 
Cups more then civil of Emilthian wine, 
I sing (said he) and the Pharsalian sign. 
Where the historian of the Commonwealth 
In his own bowels sheath'd the conquering health. 
By this May to himself and them was come, 
He found he was translated, and by whom. 
Yet then with foot as stumbling as his tongue, 
Prest for his place among the learned throng; 
But Ben, who knew not neither foe nor friend. 
Sworn enemy to all that do pretend. 
Rose more then ever he was seen, severe, 
Shook his gray locks, and his own bayes did tear 
At this intrusion; then, with laurel wand. 
The awful sign of his supreme command ; 
As whose dread whisk Virgil himself does quake, 
And Horace patiently its strokes does take; 
As he crowds in, he whipt him ore the pate. 
Like Pembroke at the masque, and then did rate. 
[Tom May's Death, in Miscellaneous Poems, 1681, pp. 35-37. 



TO BEN JONSON 401 

Anonymous, 1681. 

Our English writers are all Transmigrate 

In Pamphlet penners and diurnal Scribes, 

Wanton Comedians, and foul Gypsy Tribes, 

Not like those brave Heroick sublime strains 

That wrote the Cesars and their noble Reigns, 

Nor like those learned Poets so divine 

That penn'd Mackdnff, and famous Cataline. 

[The Character of Wits Sqiiint-Ey'd Maid, Pasquil- Makers, 1681, a 
broadside folio.] 

John Oldham, 1681. 

I doubt not but the Reader will think me guilty of an high 
presumption in adventuring upon a Translation of The Art of 
Poetry, after two such great Hands as have gone before me in 
the same attempts: I need not acquaint him, that I mean Ben- 
Johnson, and the Earl of Roscommon, the one being of so estab- 
lish'd an Authority, that whatever he did is held as Sacred, the 
other having lately performed it with such admirable success, 
as almost cuts off all hope in any after Pretenders, of ever coming 
up to what he has done. 

[Preface to his Translation of Horace His Art of Poetry; in The Works 
of Mr. John Oldham, 1703, p. 131.] 

John Oldham, 1681. 

Words new and foreign may be best brought in. 
If borrow'd from a Language near akin: 
Why should the peevish Cri ticks now forbid 
To Lee and Dryden, what was not deny'd 
To Shakespear, Ben, and Fletcher, heretofore. 
For which they Praise and Commendation bore? 

* * * * 
If I discern not the true Stile and Air, 
Nor how to give the proper Character 
To every kind of Work; how dare I claim, 
And challenge to my self a Poets Name? 
And why had I with awkward Modesty, 
27 



402 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Rather than learn, always unskilful be? 

Volpone and Morose will not admit 

Of Catiline's high strains, nor is it fit 

To make Sejanus on the Stage appear 

In the low Dress which Comick Persons wear. 

Whate'er the Subiect be on which you write, 

Give each thing its due Place and Time aright. 

[Horace His Art of Poetry, Imitated in English; in The Works of Mr. 
John Oldham, 1703, p. 140.] 

Anonymous, 1682. 

Earnest. — Prot. Cour[ani\ has pepper'd us away for what 
we said of him in our last. Hear his words: We admire at his 
high-flown Nonsence in terming the expression High Elegies Non- 
sensical, confessing our Ignorance of his Sublime Notion therein, 
and as for the reason why we durst not adventure to make his Elegy, 
it is the same with that which is given by the famous Poets that 
flourished at the time of Ben. Johnson's death, viz. That they 
could not give him his just Praises, so that there was no other 
Inscription on his Grave-stone than O rare Ben. Johnson. 

Jest. — To expose this Fellow to ridicule, one would think, it 
might be enough to shew him, and I know no other way to get 
pardon of any body that may hear us, but by assuring them we'l 
never regard him again, except upon better occasion; He knows 
High Elegies to be Nonsensical (if he understands anything) 
though Elogies or Eulogies, which he ment, might not have been 
so; then he shams upon us, that the great Poets could not give 
Johnson his due praise, instead of dare not (or else he speaks not 
to the point;) which he proves by the instance of the Epitaph 
instead of the Elegy upon him, of rare; which yet is most 
Poetically expressive of the highest desert, and does as fully 
answer his utmost merit as the Utinam viveres upon the Stone of 
the Noble Roman. 

[Heraclitus Ridens, May 16, 1682; quoted in Notes and Queries, 5th 
Series, August 25, 1877, p. 146.] 



TO BEN JONSON 403 

Thomas D'Urfey, 1682. 

If no one were to write Dramaticks, unless they could equall 

the Immortal Johnson and Shakespear; or Heroicks, unless they 

stood Competitors with the Incomparable Cowley or Dryden; I 

fear the Town would lose the diversion both of Plays and Poems. 

[Butler's Ghost: or Hiidibras. The Fourth Part, 1682, Preface.] 

Anonymous, 1682. 
He's one whose Works, in time to come, 
Will be as honour'd, and become 
Deathless as Ben's or Cowley's are, 
As Beaumont, Fletcher, or Shakespear 
One he himself is pleas'd t' admire. 
Nor could these Laureats living, be 
Better prefer'd, or lov'd than he. 
[Poeta de Tristibus: or the Poet's Complaint, 1682, p. 21.] 

John Dryden, 1682. 

Great Fletcher never treads in buskins here, 

Nor greater Jonson dares in socks appear; ... 

Nor let false friends seduce thy mind to fame, 

By arrogating Jonson's hostile name. 

Let father Flecknoe fire thy mind with praise, 

And uncle Ogleby thy envy raise. 

Thou art my blood, where Jonson has no part: 

What share have we in nature, or in art? 

[Mac-Flecktioe: A Satire against Thomas Shadwell, 1682; The Works of 
John Dryden, ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1885, x, 448, 456.] 

Thomas Shadwell, 1682. 
. . . Had it been never so bad, I had valued the Honour of 
having so many, and such Friends, as eminently appeared for 
me, above that of excelling the most admirable Johnson, if it 
were possible to be done by me. 

[To the Reader, prefixed to The Lancashire Witches, 1682.] 



404 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Sheffield, Duke of Buckinghamshire, 1682. 

How shameful! and what monstrous things are these! 

And then they rail at th' Age they cannot please, 

Conclude us only partial for the dead, 

And grudge the Sign of old Ben. Johnson'' s head; 

When the Intrinsick value of the Stage 

Can scarce be judg'd but by the following Age. . . . 

[Essay upon Poetry, 1682; here cited from Critical Essays of the Seven- 
teenth CeJttury, ed. J. E. Spingarn, 1908, ii, p. 295.] 

Edmund Waller, 1682. 

These scribbling insects have what they deserve. 

Not plenty, nor the glory for to starve. 

That Spenser knew, that Tasso felt before; 

And death found surly Ben exceeding poor. . . . 

[To Mr. Creech, On his Translation of Lucretius; in The Poems of 
Edmund Waller, ed. G; T. Drury, 1893, p. 218.] 

Alexander Radcliffe, 1682. 

. . . No Idle Scenes fit busie times as these. 

Instead of Playes we now converse with Pleas; 

And 't's thought the last do savour more of Wit, 

For those have Plots to spend, but these to get. 

(Give way, Great Shakespear, and immortal Ben, 

To Doe and Roe, John Den and Richard Fen.) 

[The Sword's Farewell; in The Ramble: an Anti-Heroick Poem, 1682, 
p. 118.] 

Robert Gould, 1682-89? 

To Madam G. with Mrs. Phillip's Poems. 
. . . Great Shakespear, Fletcher, Denham, Waller, Ben, 
Cowley, and all th' Immortal, tuneful Men 
Thou'st made thy own, and none can better tell 
Where they are low, and where they most excel, 
Can reach their heights when thou art pleas'd to write, 
Soaring a pitch that dazles human sight! 



TO BEN JONSON 405 

The Play-House, a Satyr. 
. . . Where can you find a Scene deserves more praise, 
In Shakespear, Johnson, or in Fletcher's Plays? 
They were so modest they were always dull; 
For what is Desdemona but a Fool? . . . 
But, if in what's sublime you take delight. 
Lay Shakespear, Ben, and Fletcher in your sight: 
Where Human Actions are with Life exprest, 
Vertue extoll'd, and Vice as much deprest. 
There the kind Lovers modestly complain, 
So passionate, you see their inmost pain, 
Pity and wish their Love not plac'd in vain. 
There Wit and Art, and Nature you may see 
In all their statliest Dress and Bravery: 
None e'r yet wrote, and e'r will write again. 
So lofty things in such a Heavenly strain ! 

[Poems. Chiefly consisting of Satyrs and Satyrical Epistles, i68g, pp. 65, 
173. 176.] 

John Dryden, 1683. 

... A great victory they will have who shall discover to the 

world this wonderful secret, that I have not observed the unities 

of place and time; but are they better kept in the farce of The 

Libertine Destroyed? It was our common business here to draw 

the parallel of the times, and not to make an exact tragedy. 

For this once we were resolved to err with honest Shakespeare; 

neither can Catiline or Sejaitus, (written by the great master of 

our art,) stand excused, any more than we, from this exception. 

[The Vindication: or the Parallel of the French Holy League, 1683; 
The Dramatic Works of John Dryden, ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 
1882, vii, 162-63.] 

John Dryden, 1684. 

Your Ben and Fletcher, in their first young flight, 
Did no Volpone, no Arbaces write; 
But hopped about, and short excursions made 
From bough to bough, as if they were afraid. 
And each was guilty of some Slighted Maid. 



406 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Shakespeare's own muse her Pericles first bore; 

The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moor: 

'Tis miracle to see a first good play; 

All hawthorns do not bloom on Christmas Day. 

A slender poet must have time to grow, 

And spread and burnish as his brothers do. 

[Prologue to Charles Davenant's Circe; in The Works of John Dryden, 
ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1885, x, 330.] 

Matthew Prior, 1684. 

A Satyr on the modern Translators. 
Odi imitatores servum pecus, &c. 
. . . Nay, I could hear him [Dryden] damn last Ages Wit, 
And rail at Excellence he ne're can hit; 
His Envy show'd at powerfull Cowley rage, 
And banish Sense with Johnson from the Stage: 
His Sacrilege should plunder Shakespear s Urn, 
With a dull Prologue make the Ghost return 
To bear a second Death, and greater pain. 
While the Fiend's words the Oracle prophane. 
[From Poems on Affairs of State: the First Part, 1697, p. 207.] 

Knightly Chetwood, 1684. 

Such was the case when Chaucer's early toyl 

Founded the Muses Empire in our Soyl. 

Spencer improv'd it with his painful hand 

But lost a Noble Muse in Fairy-land. 

Shakspeare say'd all that Nature cou'd impart. 

And Johnson added Industry and Art. 

Cowley, and Denham gain'd immortal praise; 

And some who merit as they ivear, the Bays. . . . 

[Commendatory Verses prefixed to An Essay on Translated Verse, by 
the Earl of Roscommon, 1684.] 

William Winstanley, 1684. 

Virgil (if we may reflect on Tradition,) after he had written 
thirty Verses in a morning, spent the rest of the day to convert 



TO BEN JONSON 407 

them into three good ones; like Ben. Johnsoft, who to one that 
told him of his Oyl and his Lamp, the pains he took before his 
Births, those happy abstracts of the humours and manners of 
men, gave this answer. That his were Works, the other printed 
things for the Stage were but Playes. Dons and Cleavelands 
Poems, hoiv have they whipt and pedantized the other Locusts of 
Poetry? thus a true Diamond is to be esteemed above heaps of 
^m/o/-Stones. (The Preface, sig. a verso.) 
* * * * 
I have conversed with some of the Wits, who credibly informed 
me, that Ben Johnsons Play of the Fox under the name of Vulpone, 
had some allusion to Mr. [Thomas] Suttons manner of treating 
of his kindred. (Pp. 318-19.) 

The Lives of 
Mr. Sam. Daniel,'] fMr. Ben. Johnson, 



,1 fMr. 

J iMr. 



Mr, Mic. Drayton,} I Mr. Will. Shakespeare. 

We shall next present you with a Quaternion of Poets, such 
as were of the best rank, endued with parts of admirable per- 
fection, and deservedly coming under the notion of Worthies. 

(P. 337-) 

* * * * 

Ben Johnson. 

[For his account of Jonson, Winstanley copies from Thomas 
Fuller's Worthies, 1643-62, q.v., with the following additions based 
on Edward Phillips.] 

In three of his Comedies, namely the Fox, Alchymist, and 
Silent-Woman, he may be compared in the Judgement of learned 
men, for Decorum, Language and well humouring the Parts, as 
well with the chief of the Ancient Greek and Latine Comedians, 
as the prime of Modern Italians, who have been judged the 
best of Europe for a happy Vein in Comedies; Nor is his Bar- 
tholemew-Fair much short of them. As for his other Comedies, 
Cinthid's Revels, Poetaster, and the rest, if they be not so Spritful 
and Vigorous as his first Pieces, all that are old will, and all that 
desire to be old, should excuse him therein, and therefore let 



408 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

the name of Ben. Johnson shield them against who ever shall 
think fit to be severe in censure against them. Truth is his 
Tragedies, Sejanus and Cateline seem to have in them more of 
an artificial and inflate, than of a pathetical and naturally 
Tragick height; In the rest of his Poetry, (for he is not wholly 
Dramatic) as his Undenvoods, Epigrams, &c. he is sometimes 
bold and strenuous, sometimes Magisterial, sometimes Lepid 
and full enough of conceit, and sometimes a man as other men 
are. . . . 

Yet were not the Poets then so dull and dry, but that many 
expressed their affection to his Memory in Elegies and Epitaphs; 
amongst which, this following may not be esteemed the worst. 
. . . (Pp. 342-44-) 

[England's Worthies, 1684. There are several other passing allusions 
to Jonson, of no great interest.] 

Earl of Roscommon, 1684. 

I have kept as close as I could, both to the Meaning, and the 
Words of the Author, and done nothing but what I believe he 
would forgive, if he were alive; and I have often ask'd my self 
that Question. I know this is a field. Per quern Magnus Equos 
Arunci flexit Alumnus. But with all the respect due to the 
Name of Ben Johnson, to which no Man pays more Veneration 
than I, it cannot be deny'd, that the constraint of Rhyme, and 
a litteral Translation, (to which Horace in this Book declares 
himself an Enemy) has made him want a Comment in many 
Places. 

[Horace: of the Art of Poetry, 1684, The Preface.] 

Mr. Evelyn, before 1685. 

The Immortality of Poesie. 
Old Chaucer shall, for his facetious style 
Be read, and prais'd by warlike Bri tains, while 
The Sea enriches and defends their Isle. 

While the whole Earth resounds Eliza's Fame 
Who cur'd the French, and did the Spaniard tame, 
The English will remember Spencer's Name. 



TO BEN JONSON 409 

Thee Shakespear Poets ever shall adore, 
Whose wealthy Fancy left so vast a store, 
They still refine thy rough but precious ore. 

While Flatt'rers live and Parasites shall dine, 
While Commonwealths afford a Catiline, 
Laborious Johnson shall be thought divine. 
[Poems Collected by N. Tate, 1685, p. 90.] 

Anonymous, 1685. 

Whilst in this Town there's a procuring Bawd, 

Or a smooth flatt'ring whore, that plyes the trade, 

A wily Servant, cruel Father known, 

The Laurel shall the matchless Johnson Crown. 

Shakespear , tho rude, yet his immortal Wit 

Shall never to the stroke of time submit, 

And the loud thund'ring flights of lofty Lee, 

Shall strike the Ears of all Posterity. 

[To detracting Censurers, that the Fame of Poets is Eternal; in Miscellany 
Poems and Translations. By Oxford Hands, 1685, p. 156.] 

Gilbert Burnet, 1685. 

I will not provoke the present Masters of the Stage, by pre- 
ferring the Authors of the last Age to them: For though they 
all acknowledge that they come far short of Ben Johnson, Beau- 
mont and Fletcher, yet I believe they are better pleased to say 
this themselves, than to have it observed by others. 

[The Preface to his Translation of Sir Thomas More's Utopia, 1685.] 

Nahum Tate, 1685. 

We own, nor to confess it are asham'd 
That from tough Ben's Remains, this Piece was fram'd. 
But if Embellishments of Vanity 
And Vice, are here improv'd to a degree 
Beyond the Characters that Master drew, 
We must the Ladies thank for that, and you, 
So far above that Johnson's Age e'er knew. 
[Prologue to Cuckolds-Haven, 1685.] 



410 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Nahum Tate, 1686. 

When o'r the World the mild Augustus reign 'd, 

Wit's Empire too the Roman Poets gain'd : 

So when the first auspicious James possest 

Our Brittish World, and in Possessing blest; 

Our Poets wore the Lawrels of the Age, 

While Shakespear, Fletcher, Johnson crown'd the Stage. 

And tho' our Casar's since have rais'd the State, 

Our Poetry sustains the Roman Fate. 

In less Essays successful we have been, 

But lost the Nobler Province of the Scene: 

Perverters, not Reformers of the Stage, 

Deprav'd to Farce, or more fantastick Rage. 

How therefore shall we Celebrate thy Name, 
Whose Genius has so well retriev'd our Fame? 
Whose happy Muse such wonders can impart, 
And temper Shakespear' s Flame with Johnson's Art. . . . 
[To the Author, prefixed to Sir Francis Fane's The Sacrifice, 1686.] 

Thomas Jevon, 1686. 

Therefore if in greater and more evident Points the Lawyer 
can no more be without his Fee, than the Lord Chancellour his 
Mace, or a Poet without Errors, (my self alone exempted) why 
shou'd the Judgment of a Man that is partially byass'd against 
the Banditti, rule the Author's opinion in his own Hemisphere, 
and discuss at large the Virtues of Jobson's Wife, without the 
Management of Hobbs his Leviathan? Why shou'd Shakespear, 
Johnson, Beaumont, Fletcher, that are no way Adequate to the 
profound Intellects of my present Atonement, be rank'd above 
the Laborious, tho' dull States-man? 

[The Preface to The Devil of a Wife, 1686.] 

Thomas Brown, about 1686. 

To Mr. Dryden on his Conversion. 
Traytor to God, and rebel to thy pen. 
Priest-ridden poet, perjur'd son of Ben, 



TO BEN JONSON 411 

If ever thou prove honest, then the nation 
May modestly beheVe Transubstantiation. 

[The Works of Mr. Thomas Brown, 1730, i, 127.] 

William Winstanley, 1687. 

Mr. Benjamin Johnson. 
This renowned Poet, whose Fame surmounts all the Elogies 
which the most learned Pen can bestow upon him, was born in 
the City of Westmi?tster, his Mother living there in Hartshorn-lane, 
near Chatingaoss, where she married a Bricklayer for her second 
Husband. He was first bred in a private School in St. Martin' s- 
Church, then in Westminster-School, under the learned Mr. 
Cambden, as he himself intimates in one of his Epigrams. 

Cambden, most reverend head, to whom I owe 

All that I am in Arts, all that I know. 

How nothings that, to whom my Country owes. 

The great renown and name wherewith she goes. 
Under this learned Schoolmaster he attained to a good degree of 
learning, and was statutably admitted in St. Jolm s-Co\\edge in 
Cambridge, (as many years after incorporated a honorary Member 
of Christ-Church in Oxjord) here he staid but some small time, for 
want of maintainance; for if there be no Oyl in the Lamp, it will 
soon be extinguish'd : And now, as he had quite laid aside all 
thoughts of the University, he betook himself to the Trade of his 
Father-in-law; And let not any be offended herewith, since it is 
more commendable to work in a lawful Calling, then having one 
not to use it. He was one who helped in the building of the new 
Structure of Lincolns-Inn, where, having a Trowel in his hand, 
he had a Book in his pocket, that as his work went forward, so 
his study went not backward. 

But such rare Parts as he had could be no more hid, than the 
Sun in a serene day, some Gentlemen pitying such rare Endow- 
ments should be buried under the rubbish of so mean a Calling, 
did by their bounty manumise him freely to follow his own 
ingenious inclinations. Indeed his Parts were not so ready to 
run of themselves, as able to answer the spur; so that it may be 



412 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

truly said of him, that he had an elaborate wit wrought out by 
his own industry; yet were his Repartees for the most part very 
quick and smart, and which savour'd much of ingenuity, of which 
I shall give you two instances. 

He having been drinking in an upper room, at the Feathers- 
Tavern in Cheap-side, as he was coming down -stairs, his foot 
slipping, he caught a fall, and tumbling against a door, beat it 
open into a room where some gentlemen were drinking Canary; 
recovering his feet, he said. Gentlemen, since I am so luckily fallen 
into your company, I will drink with you before I go. 

He used very much to frequent the Half- Moon-Tavern in 
Alders gate- street, through which was a common Thoroughfare; he 
coming late that way, one night, was denied passage, whereupon 
going through the Sun-Tavern a little after, he said, 

Since that the Moon was so unkind to make me go about. 
The Sun henceforth shall take my Coin, the Moon shall 
go without. 

His constant humour was to sit silent in learned Company, and 
suck in (besides Wine) their several Humours into his observation ; 
what was Ore in others, he was able to refine unto himself. 

He was one, and the chief of them, in ushering forth the Book 
of Coriats Crudities, writing not only a Character of the Author, 
an explanation of his Frontispiece, but also an Acrostick upon 
his Name, which for the sutableness of it. (tho' we have written 
something of others mock Verses) we shall here insert it. . . . 

[Winstanley's account of Jonson is a curious patchwork of 
what earlier writers had published, mainly Thomas Fuller in 
his Worthies. Since this material has already been included 
under Thomas Fuller, 1643-62, it is here omitted.] 

Yet do they [Jonson's plays] every one of them far excel any 
of the English ones that were writ before him; so that he may 
be truly said to be the first reformer of the English Stage, as he 
himself more truly than modestly writes in his commendatory 
Verses of his Servants Richard Broom's Comedy of the Northern 
Lass. 



TO BEN JONSON 413 

Which you have justly gained from the Stage, 

By observation of those Comick Laws, 

Which I, your Master, first did teach the Age. (Pp. 123-28.) 

* * * * 
Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher. 

These two joyned together, made one of the happy Triumvirate 
(the other two being Johnson and Shakespear) of the chief 
Dramatick Poets of our Nation, in the last foregoing Age; 
among whom there might be said to be a symmetry of perfection, 
while each excelled in his peculiar way: Ben Johnson in his 
elaborate pains and knowledge of Authors, Shakespear in his 
pure vein of wit, and natural Poetick height; Fletcher in a 
Courtly Elegance and Gentile Familiarity of Style, and withal a 
Wit and Invention so overflowing, that the luxuriant Branches 
thereof were frequently thought convenient to be lopt off by 
Mr. Beaumont; which two joyned together, like Castor and 
Pollux, (most happy when in conjunction) raised the English to 
equal the Athenian and Roman Theaters; Beaumont bringing 
the Ballast of Judgment, Fletcher the Sail of Phantasie, but 
compounding a Poet to admiration. . . . (P. 128.) 

* * * * 
Thomas Decker. 

Thomas Decker, a great pains-taker in the Dramatick stram, 
and as highly conceited of those pains he took; a high-flyer in 
wit, even against Befi Johnson himself, in his Comedy, call'd, 
The untrussing of the humorous Poet. (P. 137.) 

* * * * 
/ Thomas Randolph. 

. . . He was by Ben. Johnson adopted for his Son, and that 
as is said upon this occasion. 

Mr. Randolph having been at London so long as that he might 
truly have had a parley with his Empty Purse, was resolved to 
go see Ben. Johnson with his associates, which as he heard at a 
set-time kept a Club together at the Devil-Tavern near Temple- 
Bar; accordingly at the time appointed he went thither, but 
being unknown to them, and wanting Money, which to an 



414 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

ingenious spirit is the most daunting thing in the World, he 
peep'd into the Room where they were, which being espied by 
Ben. Johnson, and seeing him in a Scholars thredbare habit, 
John Bo-peep, says he, come in, which accordingly he did, when 
immediately they began to rime upon the meanness of his 
Clothes, asking him. If he could make a Verse? and withal to 
call for his Quart of Sack; there being four of them, he immedi- 
ately thus replied, 

I John Bo-peep, to you four sheep, 

With each one his good fleece. 
If that you are willing to give me five shilling, 
'Tis fifteen pence a piece. 
By Jesus, quoth Ben. Johnson, (his usual Oath) I believe this 
is my Son Randolph, which being made known to them, he was 
kindly entertained into their company, and Ben. Johnson ever 
after called him Son. (P. 143.) 

* * * * 
Richard Broome. 
Richard Broome was a Servant to Mr. Benjamin Johnson, a 
Servant (saith one) suitable to such a Master; having an excel- 
lent Vain fitted for a Comique Strain, and both natural Parts 
and Learning answerable thereunto; though divers witty only 
in reproving, say, That this Broome had only what he swept 
from his Master: But the Comedies he Wrote, so well received 
and generally applauded, give the Lie to such Detractors; three 
of which, viz. His Northern Lass, The Jovial Crew, and Sparagus 
Garden, are little inferior if not equal to the writings of Ben. 
Johnson himself. (P. 149.) 

[Lives of the most Famous English Poets, 1687. There are also several 
passing allusions to Jonson, of no special interest; cf. pp. 108, 
132, I35-] 

Anonymous, 1687. 

Mr. Nay the Attorney General, making a Venison Feast in a 
Tavern where Ben Johnson and some of his Companions were 
Drinking, and he having a mind to some of the Venison, wrote 
these Verses, and sent them to Mr. Noy. 



TO BEN JONSON 415 

When all the World was drown'd, 

No Venison could be found ; 

For then there was no Park: 

Lo here we sit, 

Without e're a bit, 

Noy has it all in his Ark. 

For the ingenuity of which, Mr. Noy sent him a good corner of 

a Pasty, and half a Dozen Bottles of Sack to wash it down. 

At another time, Ben Johnson intending to go through the 

Half Moone Tavern in Aldersgate Street, was denied entrance, 

the Door being shut: upon which he made these Verses. 

Since the Half -Moon is so unkind, 

to make me go about. 

The Sun my Money now shall take, 

the Moon shall go without. 

And so he went to the Sun Tavern at Long Lane end, forsaking 

the Half-Moon for this affront. 

[England' s Jests Refin'd and Improv'd, being a choice Collectiofi of the 
Merriest Jests, Smartest Repartees, Wittiest Sayings, and most 
Notable Butts, 1687; ed. by J. Ashton, in Humor, Wit, and Satire of 
the Seventeenth Century, 1883, p. 318.] 

Aphra Behn, 1687. 

. . . Such Encouragement wou'd inspire the Poets with new 
Arts to please, and the Actors with Industry. 'Twas this that 
occasioned so many Admirable Plays heretofore, as Shakespears, 
Fletcher's and Johnson's, and 'twas this alone that made the 
Town able to keep so many Play-houses alive, who now cannot 
supply one. 

[Tlie Emperor of the Moon, 1687, the Dedication.] 

Martin Clifford, 1687. 
Mr. Dryden, 

There is one of your Virtues which I cannot forbear to anim- 
advert upon, which is your excess of Modesty; When you tell 
us in your Postscript to Granada, That Shakespear is below the 
Dullest Writer of Ours, or any precedent Age. In which by your 



4l6 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

favour, you Recede as much from your own Right, as you 
disparage Almanzor, because he is yours, in preferring Ben. 
Johnson s Cethegus before him; saying in your Preface, that his 
Rodomontadoes are neither so irrational as the others, nor so 
impossible to be put in execution. I'll give you so many instances 
to the contrary, as shall convince you, and bring you over to 
my side. . . . 

[Notes upon Mr. Dryden's Poems in Four Letters, 1687, p. 10.] 

Anonymous, 1688. 
When in a Comick sweetness you appear, 
Ben Johnson's humour seems revived there. 
When lofty Passions thunder from your Pen, 
Methinks I hear Great Shakespear once again. 
But what do's most your Poetry commend? 
You ev'n begin where those great Wits did end. 

[By "Philaster, St. John's College"; prefixed to Poeticall Recreations, 
1688, sig. A 6.] 

Edward Howard, 1688. 

Of which, he Chancer, Spencer, much beheld. 
And where their Learned Poems most excell'd. 
Tho' words now obsolete express their Flame, 
Like Gemms that out of Fashon value Claim. 
Near these in Statue witty Shakspere stood, 
Whose early Plays were soonest next to Good. 
And Like a vast Dramatick Founder show'd 
Bounties of Wit from his large Genius flow'd. 
Whose worth was by this Learned [Polyaster] duly weigh'd, 
As in Effigie there he stood display 'd. 
But more stupendious to his Soul appear'd 
Proportions which great Johnsons Form declar'd, 
Whose deep Effigies he wish'd longer date 
Then Polish'd art in stone cou'd Celebrate. 
[Caroloiades, or The Rebellion of Forty-one, 1689, p. 137.] 



TO BEN JONSON 417 

Thomas Brown, 1688. 

I have Read somewhere in Monsieur Rapins Reflections Sur 
la Poetique, that a certain Venetian Nobleman, Andrea Naugeria 
by Name, was wont every Year to Sacrifice a Martial to the 
Manes of Catullus: In imitation of this froHc, a Celebrated 
Poet, in the Preface before the Spanish Fryer, is pleased to 
acquaint the World, That he has indignation enough to burn a 
Bussy Damhoys annually to the memory of Ben Johnson. (The 
Preface, sig. A 2 recto.) 

* * * * 

Crites. But pray Mr. Bays, what did you say to Shakespear, 
Johnson, and the rest of them? Methinks your new-settled 
Monarchy should stand in a great deal of danger, as long as these 
Authors continued in any respect and authority among the 
People. 

Bays. To prevent Sir, all storms that might have issued 
from that quarter, I presently set me up an Index expurgatorius, 
by the virtue of which I so castrated these grave Old-fashioned 
Gentlemen, so disguised their true features, by putting them in 
modern apparel, that upon the Stage, few, very few I gad, could 
distinguish their works from my own proper Legitimate produc- 
tions. Then I fulminated Johnsons affected Style, his dull way 
of making Love, his Thefts and mean Characters: Shakespears 
Ignorance, long Periods, and Barbarous Language: Fletchers 
want of a Gentlemans Education; so often, you do observe me 
Mr. Crites, that scarce one in a hundred had the assurance to 
offer one good word in their behalf. . . . Finally, I owned 
my self to be Apollo's Vicar here upon Earth, and Homer's 
Successor in the ancient and unerring See of Parnassus. That 
the Decrees of Mr. Bays ought to be observed with the same 
deference as the decrees of Apollo. That all other Writers were 
to be judged by Mr. Bays, but Mr. Bays was only accountable 
for his mistakes to Apollo himself. (P. 15.) 

[The Reasons of Mr. Bays Changing his Religion. Considered in a 
Dialogue between Crites, Eugenius, and Mr. Bayes, 1688.]' 



28 



4l8 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Gerard Langbaine, 1688. 

But before I quit this Paper, I desire my Readers leave to 
take a View of Plagiaries in general, and that we may observe 
the different proceedings between the Ancients and our Modern 
Writers. . . . But let us now observe how these Eminent Men 
[Virgil, Ovid, and Terence] manage what they borrow'd; and 
then compare them with those of our times. First, They propos'd 
to themselves those Authors whose Works they borrow'd from, 
for their Model. Secondly, They were cautious to borrow only 
what they found beautiful in them, and rejected the rest. . . . 
Thirdly, They plainly confess'd what they borrow'd, and modest- 
ly ascrib'd the credit of it to the Author whence 'twas originally 
taken. . . . Lastly, Whatsoever these ancient Poets (particularly 
Virgil) copyed from any Author, they took care not only to 
alter it for their purpose; but to add to the beauty of it: and 
afterwards to insert it so handsomly into their Poems, (the body 
and Oeconomy of which was generally their own) that what they 
borrowed, seemed of the same Contexture with what was originally 
theirs. So that it might be truly said of them; Apparet imde 
sumptum sit, aliiid tamen quam unde sit, apparet. 

If we now on the other side examine the proceedings of our 
late English Writers, we shall find them diametrically opposite 
in all things. Shakspear and Johnson indeed imitated these 
Illustrious Men I have cited; the one having borrow'd the 
Comedy of Errours from the Menechmi of Plautiis; the other has 
made use not only of him, but of Horace, Ovid, Juvenal, Salust, 
and several others, according to his occasions: for which he is 
commended by Mr. Dryden, as having thereby beautified our 
Language: . . . But for the most part we are treated far other- 
wise; not with round Roman Wit, as in Ben's time, but with 
empty French Kickshaws, which yet our Poetical Host's serve 
up to us for Regales of their own Cookery. 
[Momus Triumphans, 1688, the Preface.] 

William Mountfort, 1688. 

Some Care then must be taken, that may save 
This Dear, my First-begotten, from the Grave: 



TO BEN JONSON 419 

Some Friends Advise, like Brother Ben declare, 
By God 'tis good, deny't the Slave that dare. 
[Prologue to The Injured Lovers, 1688.] 

Thomas Shad well, 1688. 

If all this stuff has not quite spoiled your taste, 
Pray let a Comedy once more be graced : 
Which does not monsters represent, but men, 
Conforming to the rules of Master Ben. 
Our author, ever having him in view. 
At humble distance would his steps pursue. 
He to correct, and to inform, did write: 
If poets aim at nought but to delight. 
Fiddlers have to the bays an equal right. 
[Prologue to The Squire of Alsatia, 1688.] 

Thomas Shad well, 1689. 

Val[ei\. I hope, you'll grant Mr. Oldwit is a fine, facetious, 
witty, old Gentleman, my Lady Fantast's Husband? 

Wild[ish]. Almost as arrant an Ass, as thou art. He is a 
paltry old-fashion'd Wit, and Punner of the last Age; that 
pretends to have been one of Ben Johnson's Sons, and to have 
seen Plays at the Blackfryers. 

* * * * 

Oldw[it]. No, Nature has made you a Wit. Why do you 
take it ill? I think it the greatest Honour can be done to a 
Man. I my self, simple as I stand here, was a Wit in the last 
Age: I was created Be?i Johnson's Son, in the Apollo. I knew 
Fletcher, my Friend Fletcher, and his Maid Joan: Well, I shall 
never forget him; I have supp'd with him, at his House on the 
Bankside. . . . I was a Critick at Blackfryers; hut at Cambiidge, 
none so great as I with Jack Cleveland: But Tom Randolph and 
I were Hand and Glove: Tom was a brave Fellow; the most 
Natural Poet! 

[Bury-Fair, 1689, Act I, Scene i.] 



420 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

John Wilson, 1690. 

But for myself — for once ev'n let me pass, 

And tho' the face mayn't please ye, spare th' glass; 

Ye can't but say, I made the Devil an ass! 

[Epilogue to Belphegor, licensed 1690, printed 1691. Wilson's indebt- 
edness to Jonson's The Devil is an Ass is shown in Ernst Hollstein's 
Verhdltnis von Ben Jonsoft's "The Devil is an Ass" und John 
Wilson's "Belphegor, or the Marriage of the Devil" zu Machiavelli' s 
Novelle voin Belfagor.] 

Thomas D'Urfey, 1690. 

Where Verse has not the power to Influence, 
What method ever can reform the Sence? 
What would a Cato, or a Virgil be, 
Johnson, or Shakespeare, to the Mobile? 
Or how would Juvenal appear at Court, 
That writing Truth had his Bones broken for't? 
[A New Essay In Defence of Verse, 1690, p. 5. J 

Thomas D'Urfey, 1690. 

To this rare place where Wit is taught, [the playhouse] 
The Major now had Collin brought; 
The House was Peopled with all sorts, 
The Cities product and the Courts, 
An Ancient Comick Piece they knew, 
Intitld the Fair of Bartholomew, 
Collin first thought as he came in, 
It had a Conventicle bin. 
And that mistaking of the day, 
The Major brought him there to pray; 
He saw each Box with Beauty crown'd, 
And Pictures deck the Structure round; 
Ben, Shakespear, and the learned Rout, 
With Noses some, and some without. 
[Collin's Walk through London and Westminster, 1690, p. 148.] 

Anonymous, 1690. 

When this is brought to pass. I am afraid 
That in a Play-house I shall dye a Maid; 



TO BExN JONSON 421 

That Miracles don't cease, and I shall see 
Some Players Martyrs for their Honesty. 

J. H. the greatest Bigot of the Nation, 

And see him burn for Transubstantiation. 
Or hope to see, from such a Mongrel breed, 
Wit that the Godlike Shakespear shall exceed; 
Or what has dropt from Fletcher's fluent Pen, 
Our this days Author, or the Learned Ben. 

[Epilogue to Thomas Betterton's alteration of Beaumont and Fletcher's 
Prophetess, 1690.] 

Thomas Brown, 1690. 

As the peevish old huncks in the silent Woman hir'd him a 

House as far from the rattling of Coaches as he cou'd meet with, 

so I have done the same in relation to a Church, and you might 

as soon wheedle Ben Johnson's Morose if he were alive again 

into the Wits Coffee-House, as perswade me now into any of 

your Churches. 

[The Late Converts Exposed: or the Reasons of Mr. Bays' s Changing 
his Religion: Part the Second, 1690, p. 5.] 

John Dryden, 1690. 

How's this? you cry: an actor write? — ^we know it; 
But Shakespeare was an actor, and a poet. 
Has not great Jonson's learning often failed? 
But Shakespeare's greater genius still prevailed. 
[Prologue to Joseph Harris's The Mistakes, 1690.] 

William Mountfort, 1691. 

Indifferent Authors in most Ages have been incourag'd and 
preserv'd under the Clemency of the Nobility, in hopes that 
they might be better: But the severity of our Wits would have 
the first Plays which are now written, equal to the best of Ben 
Johnson, or Shakespear: And yet they do not shew that esteem 
for their Works w^hich they pretend to, or else are not so good 
Judges as they would be thought: When we can see the Town 
throng to a Farce, and Hamlet not bring Charges: But notwith- 



422 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Standing they will be Criticks, and will scarce give a man leave 
to mend. 

[Greenwich-Park, 1691; the Dedication.] 

William Mountfort, 1691. 

But Virtue, tho' she suffer'd long, at last 

Was Crown'd with a reward for what was past; 

The honest thinking Heathen shew'd the way, 

And handed Down the Moral call'd a Play: 

Old Ben. and Shakespear copied what they writ, 

Then Downright Satyr was accounted wit; 

The Fox and Alchymist expos'd the Times, 

The Persons then was loaded with their Crimes; 

But for the space of Twenty years and more, 1 

You've hiss'd this way of Writing out of door, r 

And kick and winch when we but touch the sore. J 

But as some Fashions long since useless grown, 

Are now Reviv'd and all the Mode o' th' Town. 

Why mayn't the Antient way of Writing please 

And in its turn meet with the same Success? 

[Prologue to King Edward the Third, with the Fall of Mortimer Earl of 
March, 1691.] 

William Tun stall, 1691. 

To my Ingenious Friend Mr. Heyrick, Author of 
the Submarine Voyage. 
Long I in darkness, by false Meteors led, 
Have blindly follow'd Truth, that from me fled: 
Long have pursu'd the harsh and rugged Road, 
Where Shakespear and Great Ben before me trod : 

Yet now, Dear Friend, in vain I find, 
I did th' Infatuating Fire pursue; 

It onely did amuse my Mind, 
And Me thro Mists and Labyrinths drew: 
Dully thro thick and thin I wander'd on, 
O're Denharns, Sucklings, Waller s Poems ran; 

And vainly thought myself well Blest, 



TO BEN JONSON 423 

When I a while in Cleaveland' s Shade could rest; 
And at his Fountain quench my Thirst: 
[Prefixed to Thomas Heyrick's Miscellany Poems, 1691.] 

Anonymous, 1691. 

Ques[tion\ j. Which is the best Poem that ever was made and 
who in your Opinion, deserves the Title of the best Poet that ever 
was? 

Ans[wer]. . . . But since we can't go through all the World, 
let's look home a little. Grandsire Chaucer, in spite of the Age, 
was a Man of as much wit, sence and honesty as any that have 
writ after him. Father Ben was excellent at Humour, Shakespear 
deserves the Name of sweetest, whxch. Milton gave him. — Spencer 
was a noble poet, his Fairy-Queen an excellent piece of Morality, 
Policy, History. Davenant had a great genius. Too much can't 
be said of Mr. Coley. Milton's Paradise lost, and some other 
poems of his will never be equalVd. Waller is the most correct 
Poet we have. 

Quest[ion] j. Do the Modern English Dramatique Writers excell 
most, or those of the last age? 

Ans[wer]. Those who first brought our Stage any thing near 

the Ancients, as Shakespear, Johnson, and some few more, had 

not only most of 'em a great Genius of their own to shape and 

mould what they found, but a vast stock of Matter to set up 

with, and therefore no wonder they were such great Traders. 

[The Athenian Mercury, Vol. ii. No. 14, Saturday, July 11, 1691, Vol. v. 
No. I, Tuesday, December i, 1691. According to an advertise- 
ment, "All Persons whatever may be resolved gratis in any Question 
that their own satisfaction or Curiosity shall prompt 'em to, if 
they send their Questions to" . . .] 

Anonymous, 1691. 

To Mr. T. D. Sir Critick Catcall sends Greeting. 

. . . The Indisposition of the Laureat is like to spill as much 
Blood as Ink among you; for from the Modern Playwriters, to 
the high toppers of the Profession, I expect to find you all at 
Daggers drawing; should he be so civil to you to leave us in 



424 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

haste (7 hope he will not ) to make a visit to his Brothers Terence, 
and Ben Johnson in the Elizian Fields. (Sig. A verso.) 

* * * * 

To tell you the truth, as Mr. Dryden sacrifices a Bussy d' 

Amhois to the memory of Ben Johnson, I sacrifice one of these 

[poor books] yearly to the memory of Shakespear, Butler, and 

Oldham. (P. 4.) 

[Wit for Money: or Poet Stutter: A Dialogue between Smith, Johnson, 
and Poet Stutter, 1691.] 

Gerard Langbaine, 1691. 

I am only sorry that my Power is not equal to the zeal I have 
for the memory of those Illustrious Authors, the Classicks, as 
well as those later Writers of our own Nation, Mr. Shakespear , 
Fletcher, Johnson, Cowley, &c. that I might be capable of doing 
them better Service, in vindicating Their Fame, and in exposing 
our Modern Plagiaries, by detecting Part of their Thefts. (Pref- 
ace, sig. a4.) 

* * * * 

The Author [Robert Baron] seems to have propos'd for his 
pattern the famous Catiline, writ by Ben Johnson: and has in sev- 
eral places not only hit the model of his Scenes: but even imitated 
the Language tolerably, for a young writer. Whoever pleases 
to compare the Ghost of Emirhamze-mirza, with that of Scilla, 
may easily see his Imitation, but that being too long to tran- 
scribe, I shall set down the first words of Catiline, in that admir- 
able Play; and afterwards those of Abbas. (P. 21.) 

* * * * 

This Author [Richard Brome] .... tho' of mean Extraction 
(being Servant to the fam'd Ben Johnson) WVit himself into much 
credit. ... As to his worth in Comick Writing, it is not only 
asserted by the Testimony of several Poets of that Age, in their 
commendatory Verses before many of his Plays, as Shirley, Decker, 
Ford, Chamberlain, Sr. Aston Cockain, Alexander Brome, and 
others: but even Ben Johnson himself (who was not over-lavish 
of Praise) bestowed the following Copy on his Northern Lass, 



TO BEN JONSON 425 

which will weigh against all the Calumnies of his Enemies. . . . 
In imitation of his Master Mr. Johnson, he studied Men and 
Humor, more than Books; and his Genius affecting Comedy, 
his Province was more Observation than Study. (P. 33.) 

* * * * 

Sr. John Suckling, that gay Wit, who delighted to Railly the 
best Poets, and spar'd not Ben Johnson himself. (P. 44.) 

To speak of his [William Carthwright's] Poetry, there needs 
no other Character of it in general, then that the ablest Judge of 
Poetry at that time, I mean Ben Johnson, said with some Passion, 
My Son Carthwright writes all like a Man. (P. 53.) 

* * * * 

I can give him [George Chapman] no greater Commendation, 
than that he was so intimate with the famous Johnson, as to 
engage in a Triumvirate with Him, and Marston in a Play called 
Eastward-Hoe: a Favour which the haughty Ben could seldome 
be perswaded to. . . . of all which his Tragedy of Bnssy d'Am- 
boise has the Preference. I know not how Mr. Dryden came 
to be so possest with Indignation against this Play, as to resolve 
to burn One annually to the Memory of Ben Johnson: but I 
know very well that there are some who allow it a just Com- 
mendation. (P. 57.) 

* * * * 

Thomas Decker. 
A Poet that liv'd in the Reign of King James the First, and 
was Contemporary with that admirable Laureat, Mr. Benjamin 
Johnson. He was more famous for the contention he had with 
him for the Bays, than for any great Reputation he had gain'd 
by his own Writings. ... Of those [plays] which he writ alone, 
I know none of much Esteem, except The Untrussing the Humour- 
oits Poet, and that chiefly on account of the Subject of it, which 
was the Witty Ben Johnson. (P. 121.) 

* * * * 

This Play [Satiromastix] was writ on the occasion of Ben 
Johnson's Poetaster, where under the Title of Chrispinus, Ben 



426 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

lash'd our Author, which he endeavour'd to retaliate by Un- 
trussing Ben under the Title of Horace Junior. This Play is 
far inferior to that of Mr. Johnson, as indeed his abilities in 
Poetry were no ways comparable to his: but this may be said 
in our Author's behalf, that 'twas not only lawful, but excusable 
for him to defend himself. (P. 123.) 

But had he [Dryden] only extended his Conquests over the 
French Poets, I had not medled in this Affair . . . but when I 
found him flusht with his Victory over the great Scndery . . . 
and not content with Conquests abroad, like another Julius 
Caesar, turning his Arms upon his own Country; and as if the 
proscription of his Contemporaries Reputation, were not sufificient 
to satiate his implacable thirst after Fame, endeavouring to 
demolish the Statues and Monuments of his Ancestors, the 
Works of those his Illustrious Predecessors, Shakespear, Fletcher, 
and Johnson: I was resolv'd to endeavour the rescue and preser- 
vation of those excellent Trophies of Wit, by raising the Posse- 
comitatus upon this Poetick Almanzor, to put a stop to his Spoils 
upon his own Country-men. (P. 133.) 

* * * * 

As to the great Ben Johnson he [Dryden] deals not much 
better with him, though he would be thought to admire him; 
and if he praise him in one Page, he wipes it out in another: 
thus tho' he calls him ''The most Judicious of Poets, and Inimit- 
able Writer, yet, he says, his Excellency lay in the low Characters 
of Vice, and Folly. When at any time (says he) Ben aim'd at 
Wit in the stricter sence, that is sharpness of Conceit, he was 
forc'd to borrow from the Ancients, (as to my Knowledge he 
did very much from Plautus:) or when he trusted himself alone, 
often fell into meanness of expression. Nay he was not free 
from the lowest and most groveling Kind of Wit, which we call 
Clenches; of which Every Man in his Humour is infinitely full, 
and which is worse, the wittiest Persons in the Dramma speak 
them." 

These are his own Words, and his Judgment of these three 
Great Men in particular, now take his Opinion of them all in 



TO BEN JONSON 427 

general, which is as follows: "But Malice and Partiality set 
apart, let any Man, who understands English, read diligently 
the Works of Shakespear and Fletcher; and I dare undertake 
that he will find in every Page, either some Solecisme in Speech, 
or some notorious flaw in Sence." In the next Page, speaking 
of their Sence and Language, he says, "I dare almost challenge 
any Man to shew me a Page together which is correct in both. 
As for Ben Johnson I am loath to name him, because he is a 
most judicious Author, yet he often falls into these Errors." 
Speaking of their Wit, he gives it this Character, "I have always 
acknowledg'd the Wit of our Predecessors, with all the Veneration 
that becomes me; but I am sure, their Wit was not that of 
Gentlemen; there was ever somewhat that was Ill-bred and 
Clownish in it: and which confest the Conversation of the 
Authors." Speaking of the advantage which acrues to our 
Writing, from Conversation, he says, "In the Age wherein those 
Poets liv'd, there was less of Gallantry than in ours; neither did 
they keep the best Company of theirs. Their Fortune has been 
much like that of Epicurus, in the Retirement of his Gardens: 
to live almost unknown, and to be Celebrated after their Decease. 
I cannot find that any of them were Conversant in Courts, 
except Ben Johnson: and his Genius lay not so much that way, 
as to make an Improvement by it." He gives this Character 
of their Audiences; "They knew no better, and therefore were 
satisfied with what they brought. Those who call theirs The 
Golden Age of Poetry, have only this Reason for it, that they were 
then content with Acorns, before they knew the use of Bread; 
or that AXts 8pv6s was become a Proverb." 

These are Errors which Mr. Dryden has found out in the 
most Correct Dramatick Poets of the last Age, and says in 
defence of our present Writers, that if they reach not some 
Excellencies of Ben Johnson, yet at least they are above that 
Meanness of Thought which he has tax'd, and which is so frequent 
in him. (Pp. 136-38.) 

* * * * 

To come lastly to Ben Johnson, who (as Mr. Dryden affirms 
has borrow'd more from the Ancients than any: I crave leave 



428 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

to say in his behalf, that our late Laureat has far outdone him 
in Thefts, proportionable to his Writings: and therefore he is 
guilty of the highest Arrogance, to accuse another of a Crime, 
for which he is most of all men liable to be arraign'd. 
Quis tulerit Gracchos de seditione querentes? 

I must further alledge that Mr. Johnson in borrowing from 
the Ancients, has only follow'd the Pattern of the great Men of 
former Ages, Homer, Virgil, Ovid, Horace, Plautus, Terence, 
Seneca, &c. all which have imitated the Example of the indus- 
trious Bee, which sucks Honey from all sorts of Flowers, and 
lays it up in a general Repository. 'Twould be actum agere to 
repeat what is known to all Learned Men; that there was an 
Illiad written before that of Homer, which Aristotle mentions; 
and from which . . . Homer is supposed to have borrow'd his 
Design. ... I could enumerate more Instances, but these are 
sufihcient Precedents to excuse Mr. Johnson. 

Permit me to say farther in his behalf. That if in imitation 
of these illustrious Examples, and Models of Antiquity, he has 
borrow'd from them, as they from each other; yet that he 
attempted, and as some think, happily succeeded in his Endeav- 
ours of Surpassing them: insomuch that a certain Person of 
Quality makes a Question, "Whether any of the Wit of the 
Latine Poets be more Terse and Eloquent in their Tongue, than 
this Great and Learned Poet appears in ours." 

Whether Mr. Dryden, who has likewise succeeded to admiration 
in this way, or Mr. Johnson have most improv'd, and best 
advanc'd what they have borrow'd from the Ancients, I shall 
leave to the decision of the abler Cri ticks: only this I must say, 
in behalf of the later, that he has no ways endeavour'd to conceal 
what he has borrow'd, as the former has generally done. Nay, 
in his Play called Sejanus he has printed in the Margent through- 
out, the places from whence he borrow'd: the same he has 
practic'd in several of his Masques, (as the Reader may find in 
his Works;) a Pattern, which Mr. Dryden would have done well 
to have copied, and had thereby sav'd me the trouble of the 
following Annotations. 



TO BEN JONSON 429 

There is this difference between the Proceedings of these Poets, 
that Mr. Johnson has by Mr. Dryden's Confession Designed his 
Plots himself; whereas I know not any One Play, whose Plot 
may be said to be the Product of Mr. Dryden's own Brain. 
When Mr. Johnson borrow'd, 'twas from the Treasury of the 
Ancients, which is so far from any diminution of his Worth, 
that I think it is to his Honor; at least-wise I am sure he is 
justified by his Son Carthwright, in the following Lines: 

What tho' thy searching Muse did rake the dust . . . 

Give me leave to say a word, or two, in Defence of Mr. John- 
son's way of Wit, which Mr. Dryden calls Clenches. 

There have been few great Poets which have not propos'd 
some Eminent Author for their Pattern. . . . Mr. Johnson 
propos'd Plautus for his Model, and not only borrow'd from him, 
but imitated his way of Wit in English. There are none who 
have read him, but are acquainted with his way of playing with 
Words. . . . Nor might this be the sole Reason for Mr. /o//«50w'5 
Imitation, for possibly 'twas his Compliance with the Age that 
induc'd him to this way of writing, it being then as Mr. Dryden 
observes the Mode of Wit, the Vice of the Age, and not Ben 
Johnson's: and besides Mr. Dryden' s taxing Sir Philip Sidney 
for playing with his Words, I may add that I find it practis'd by 
several Dramatick Poets, who were Mr. Johnson's Cotempo- 
raries. . . . 

As to his Reflections on this Triumvirate in general: I might 
easily prove, that his Improprieties in Grammar, are equal to 
theirs: and that He himself has been guilty of Solecisms in 
Speech, and Flaws in Sence, as well as Shakespear, Fletcher, and 
Johnson. (Pp. 145-50.) 

* * * * 

I am now arriv'd at a brace of Authors, [Beaumont & Fletcher] 
who like the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, succeeded in Con- 
junction more happily than any Poets of their own, or this Age, 
to the reserve of the Venerable Shakespear, and the Learned and 
Judicious Johnson. . . . To speak first of Mr. Beaumont, he was 
Master of a good Wit, and a better Judgment; he so admirably 



430 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

well understood the Art of the Stage, that even Johnson himself 
thought it no disparagement to submit his Writings to his 
Correction. What a great Veneration Ben had for him, is 
evident by those Verses he writ to him when living. (P. 203.) 
^ ^ '^ ^ 
Our Author [Peter Haustead] seems to me to be much of the 
Humor of Ben Johnson, (whose greatest weakness was that he 
could not bear Censure;) and has so great a Value for Ben's 
Writings, that his Scene between Love-all, Mungrel, and Hammer- 
shin, Act 3. Sc. 7 is copy'd from that (in Johnson's Play called 
The Silent Woman,) between True-Wit, Dazv, and La-fool, Act. 4. 

Sc. 5. (P. 245.) 

* * * * 

Benjamin Johnson. 

I have already drawn some strokes of this Great Man's Charac- 
ter, in my Defence of him against the Attempts of Mr. Dryden; 
and therefore shall less need to make a curious and exact Descrip- 
tion of all his Excellencies; which otherwise are very Great, 
Noble, and Various; and have been remark'd in parcells by 
several Hands, but exceed my small Capacity to collect them into 
one full View. I shall therefore rather let them lye dispers'd, as 
Scaliger did Virgil's Praises, thro' his whole Book of Poetry; 
contenting my self at present with giving the Reader an Account 
of the private Occurrencies of his life. 

To begin then with his Nativity: He was born in the City of 
Westminster; and tho' he sprang from mean Parents, yet his 
Admirable Parts have made him more Famous than those of a 
more Conspicuous Extraction. Nor do I think it any Diminution 
to him, that he was Son-in-law to a Bricklayer, and work'd at 
that Trade ; since if we take a Survey of the Records of Antiquity, 
we shall find the Greatest Poets of the meanest Birth; and most 
lyable to the Inconveniencies of Life. . . . 

He was Bred first at a Private-School, in St. Martin's Church, 
then plac'd at Westminster, under the Famous Mr. Cambden, (to 
whom in Gratitude he dedicated his Fourteenth Epigram) after- 
wards he was sent to Saint John's Colledge in Cambridge; from 
thence he remov'd to Oxford, and was enter'd of Christ-Church 



TO BEN JONSON . 43 1 

Colledge; where in the Year 1619, (as Mr. Wood says) he took 
his Master of Arts Degree: tho' Dr. Fuller says, "He continu'd 
there but few Weeks, for want of Maintenance, being fain to 
return to the Trade of his Father-in-law," where he assisted in 
the New Building of Lincolns Inn, with a Trowel in his Hand, 
and a Book in his Pocket. But this English Maro, was not long 
before he found a Mcecenas and a Varus, to manumit him from 
an Employment so painful, and furnisht him with means to 
enjoy his Muse at liberty, in private. 'Twas then that he writ 
his Excellent Plays, and grew into Reputation with the most 
Eminent of our Nobility and Gentry. 'Twas then, that Carth- 
wright, Randolph, and others of both Universities, sought his 
Adoption; and gloried more in his Friendship, and the Title of 
his Sons, than in their own Well-deserv'd Characters. Neither 
did he less love, or was less belov'd by the Famous Poets of his 
Time, Shakspear, Beaumont, and Fletcher: witness his Copy 
which he writ on Shakspear, after his Death, and his Verses to 
Fletcher when living. 

He was a Man of a very free Temper, and withal blunt, and 
somewhat haughty to those, that were either Rivals in Fame, or 
Enemies to his Writings: (witness his Poetaster, wherein he falls 
upon Decker, and his answer to Dr. Gill, who writ against his 
Magnetick Lady,) otherwise of a good Sociable Humour, when 
amongst his Sons and Friends in the Apollo: from whose Laws 
the Reader may possibly better judge of his Temper; a Copy of 
which I have transcrib'd for the Learn'd Readers perusal. . . . 

As to his Poetry, I dare not pretend to give a Judgment on it, 
it deserving somewhat above what my faint Praise can reach, or 
describe: therefore those who would be better satisfy'd must have 
recourse to his Character drawn by Dr. Fuller, and Mr. Anthony 
Wood in Prose, and by Mr. Carthwright, and the late Mr. Oldham 
in Verse; to the foregoing, I might add Mr. Dryden's Dramatick 
Essay, which had it been writ after his Postscript to Granada, 
might have aton'd for that unbecoming Character, and had 
serv'd for a Palinode; but since he has not that I know of thought 
fit to retract it, give me leave to insert an old Copy of Verses, 



432 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

which seems to wipe off the Accusations of Mr. Johnson's Enemies. 
[Here Langbaine quotes the Latin verses by Charles Fitzgeoffrey, 
1601.]. . . 

I might here appositely enough bring in a pleasant Story or 
two of Ben. Johnson's, as Instances of his Debonaire Humor and 
Readiness at Repartee, did I not fear to be condemn'd by Mr. 
Dryden, and reckon'd by him and his admirers, in the number of 
those grave Gentlemen, whose Memory (he says) is the only 
Plea for their being Wits: for this reason I shall forbear, and 
hasten to give an Account of his Works. 

He has writ above fifty several Pieces, which we may rank 
under the Species of Dramatick Poetry; of which we shall give 
an Account in Order, beginning with one of his best Comedies, 
viz. 

Alchymist, a Comedy . . . 

Bartholomew Fair, . . . This play has frequently appear'd on 
the Stage since the Restoration, with great applause. 
^ Catiline his Conspiracy. . . . This play is still in Vogue on the 
Stage, and always presented with success. . . . 

Every Man in his Humour. . . . This Play has been reviv'd 
since the Civil Wars, and was receiv'd with general Applause. 
There is a new Epilogue writ for this Play, the latter part of 
which is spoken by Ben Johnson's Ghost. [See the entry under 
"Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset, 1675.''] 

Every Ma7i out of his Humour .... This Play was reviv'd at 
the Theatre-Royal, in the Year 1675, at which time a new Pro- 
logue, and Epilogue were spoken by Jo. Heyns, which were 
written by Mr. Duffet. See his Poems 8°. pag. 72. &c. This is 
accounted an excellent Old Comedy. . . . 

Magnetick Lady. . . . This Play is generally esteem'd an 
Excellent Play: tho' in those days it found some Enemies. . . . 

Poetaster. ... I have already spoken of this Play in the 
Account of Decker's Satyromastix; and I must further add, I 
heartily wish for our Author's Reputation, that he had not been 
the Agressor in this Quarrel; but being altogether ignorant of 
the Provocations given him, I must suspend my Judgment, and 



TO BEN JONSON 433 

leave it to better Judges to determine the Controversy. . . . 

Sejanus's Fall. . . . This Play is generally commended by all 
Lovers of Poetry. 

Silent Woman. . . . This Play is Accounted by all, One of the 
best Comedies we have extant; and those who would know 
more, may be amply satisfied by the perusal of the judicious 
Examen of this Play made by Mr. Dryden. . . . 

Vulpone, or The Fox. . . . It is still in vogue at the Theatre 
in Dorset Garden. . . . 

New-Inn. . . . The just Indignation the Author took at the 
Vulgar Censure of his Play begat this following Ode to himself: 
Come, leave the loathed Stage . . . 

This Ode sufficiently shews what a high Opinion our Author 
has of his own Performances; and like Aristotle in Philosophy, 
and Peter Lombard, (The Master of the Sentences) in School- 
Divinity; our Ben. lookt upon himself as the only Master of 
Poetry; and thought it the Duty of the Age, rather to submit to, 
than dispute, much less oppose his Judgment. 'Twas great 
pity, that he that was so great a Master in Poetry, should not 
retain that old Axiom in Morality, Nosce Teipsum: . . . He had 
then prevented that sharp Reply made by the Ingenious Mr. 
Feltham, to this Magisterial Ode: and which could not chuse 
but vex a Person of our Author's Haughty Temper: but he was 
a Man, and subject to Infirmities, as well as others; tho' abating 
for his too much abounding in his own Sence, (an Epidemical 
Distemper belonging to the Fraternity of Parnassus) he had not 
his Equal in his Time for Poetry. . . . 

This Haughty Humour of Mr. Johnson was blam'd and carpt 
at by others, as well as Mr. Feltham: amongst the rest. Sir 
John Suckling, that Neat Facetious Wit, arraign'd him at the 
Session of Poets; and had a fling at this Play in particular: tho' 
we may say, compar'd to the former. He did only circiim prcscordia 
ludere; laugh at, and railly his unreasonable Self-opinion; as 
you may see in the following Lines: the first Stanza of which 
tho' already mention'd in the Account of Heywood, I crave my 
Readers leave to repeat, that he may read our Author's Character 
entire: 
29 



434 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

The first that broke silence was good Old Ben, . . . 

He died A?i. D. 1637, being aged 63, and was buried in St. 
Peter's Church in Westminster, on the West-side near the Belfry; 
having only a plain Stone over his Grave, with this Inscription; 
RARE BEN. JOHNSON. 

'Tis manifest, that a better Monument was design'd him, by 
some Friends; but the Civil Wars breaking out, hindred their 
good Intentions: tho' it shall not prevent me from transcribing 
an Elegy written by a Studious Friend and Admirer of Ben. 
Johnson; which I wish were set upon his Grave. 

Hie Johnsonus noster Lyriconim, Dramaticoriimqiie Coryphceiis, 
qui Pallade auspice lauruni a Grcecia ipsague Roma rapuit, & 
fausto Omine in Brittaniam transtulit nostram, nunc invidia major, 
fato, nee tamen cemulis cessit. An. Dom. 1637. Id. Nov. (Pp. 

280-306.) 

* * * * 

Certainly therefore, if he [Thomas Killegrew] scrupled to rob 
Mr. Carew, he would much more Mr. Johnson, whose Fame as 
much exceeded the others, as his Writings and Compositions are 
better known: However it be, I am sure he is not the only Poet 
that has imp'd his Wings with Mr. Johnson's Feathers. (P. 314.) 

* * * * 

He [Marlowe] writ besides a Poem, call'd Hero and Leander; 
Whose mighty Lines (says one) Mr. Benjamin Johnson, a Alan 
sensible enough of his own Abilities, was often heard to say, that 
they were Examples fitter for Admiration, than Paralel. (P. 345.) 

* * * * 

Never any Man's Stile was more Bombast, so that undoubtedly 
he [Thomas Meriton] deserv'd to have been under Ben. Johnson's 
Hands; and had he liv'd in that Age, had without question 
underwent the trouble of a Vomit, as well as Crispinus in Poet- 
aster, till he had (to borrow One of his lofty Expressions) disgorg'd 
the obdure Faculty of his Sence. (P. 367.) 

* * * * 

He [Thomas Middleton] was Contemporary with those Famous 
Poets Johnson, Fletcher, Massinger and Rowley, in whose Friend- 



TO BEN JONSON 435 

ship he had a large ^Share; and tho' he came short of the two 

former in parts, yet Hke the Ivy by the Assistance of the Oak, 

(being joyn'd with them in several Plays) he clim'd up to some 

considerable height of Reputation. He joyn'd with Fletcher and 

Johnson, in a Play called The Widow, . . . and certainly most 

Men will allow, That he that was thought fit to be receiv'd into 

a Triumvirate, by two such Great Men, was no common Poet. 

(P. 370.) 

* * * * 

No Person since the Time of Augustus better understood 
Dramatick Poetry, nor more generously encourag'd Poets; so 
that we my truly call him [William, Duke of Newcastle] our 
English Meccenas. He had a more particular kindness for that 
Great Master of Dramatick Poesy, the Excellent Johnson, and 
'twas from him that he attain'd to a perfect Knowledge of what 
was to be accounted True Humour in Comedy. (P. 386.) 

He [Thomas Randolph] was accounted one of the most preg- 
nant Wits of his Time; and was not only admir'd by the W^its of 
Cambridge, but likewise belov'd and valu'd by the Poets, and 
Men of the Town in that Age. His Gay Humour, and Readiness-, 
at Repartee, begat Ben. Johnson's Love to that Degree, that he: 
Adopted him his Son: on which Account Mr. Randolph writ a 
Gratulatory Poem to him, which is printed, these Lines being 
part of the Copy: 

— When my Muse upon obedient knees 
Asks not a Father's Blessing, let her leese 
The Fame of this Adoption; 'tis a Curse 
I wish her 'cause I cannot think a worse. 
How true a Filial Love he pay'd to his Reputation, may 
appear from his Answer to that Ode, which Ben. writ in Defence 
of his New-hm, and which Mr. Feltham reply'd upon so sharply. 
Having given you the two former, in my Account of Mr. Johnson; 
give me leave likewise to transcribe this in Honour of Mr. 
Randolph, whose Memory I reverence, for his Respect to that 
Great Man. (Pp. 411-12.) 



436 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Permit me therefore to conclude all with the following Lines, 
writ by One of St. John's, in Memory of our Author. 
Immortal Ben is dead, and as that Ball 
On Ida toss'd, so is his Crown, by all 
The Infantry of W't. Vain Priests! That Chair 
Is only fit for his true Son and Heir. 
Reach here thy Laurel : Randolph, His thy praise: 
Thy naked Sktdl shall well become the Bays. 
See, Daphne courts thy Ghost: and spite oj Fate, 
Thy Poems shall be Poet Laureate. (P. 417.) 

* * * * 

As to his [William Rowly's] Poetry, and his intimate Acquaint- 
ance with the prime Poets of that Age, I can speak at large. 
He was not only beloved by those Great Men, Shakespear, 
Fletcher, and Johnson; but likewise writ with the former, The 
Birth of Merlin. Besides what he joyned in writing with Poets 
of the second Magnitude, as Heyivood, Middleton, Day and 

Webster. (P. 428.) 

* * * * 

That Mr. Shadwell has propos'd B. Johnson for his Model, I 
am very certain of ; and those who will read the Preface to the 
Htimorists, may be sufiliciently satisfied what a value he has for 
that Great Man. (P. 444.) 

^ '^ ^ ^ 

And it is no small credit to our Author [Tho. Shadwell], that 
the Sieur De Saint Euvremont, speaking of our English Comedies 
in his Essays, has ranked this Play [Epsom Wells] with Ben 
Johnson s Bartholmeiv Fair, as two of our most diverting Come- 
dies. (P. 446.) 

* * * * 

'Tis true Mr. Dryden has censured him [Shakespeare] very 
severely, in his Postscript to Granada; but in cool Blood, and 
when the Enthusiastick Fit was past, he has acknowledged him 
Equal at least, if not Superiour, to Mr. Johnson in Poesie. I 
shall not here repeat what has been before urged in his behalf, 
in that Common Defence of the Poets of that Time, against 



TO BEN JONSON 437 

M''. Dryden's Account of Ben Johnson; but shall take the Liberty 
to speak my Opinion, as my predecessors have done, of his 
Works; which is this. That I esteem his Plays beyond any that 
have ever been published in our Language : and tho' I extreamly 
admire Johnson, and Fletcher; yet I must aver, that when in 
competition with Shakespear, I must apply to them what Justus 
Lipsius writ in his Letter to Andrceas Schottus, concerning 
Terence and Plautus, when compar'd; Terentium amo, admiror, 
sed Plautum magis. (P. 454.) 

* * * * 

I shall conclude this Account, with Four Lines writ in our 
Author's Commendation, by One Mr. Hall; who in the Title of 
his Panegyrick stiles him, The Surviving Honour and Ornament 
of the English Scene: and in the End, concludes thus: 

Yet this I dare assert, when Men have nam'd 

Johnson (the Nations Laureat,) the fam'd 

Beaumont, and Fletcher, he, that cannot see 

Shirley, the fourth, must forfeit his best Eye. (P. 485.) 

[An Account of the English Dramatick Poets, Oxford, 1691. The work 
contains many other allusions to Jonson; cf. pp. 41, 42, 67, 137. 
218, 309, 310, 342, 349, 350, 389, 391, 392, 448, 518.] 

Anthony a Wood, 1691-92. 

Benjamin Johnson, a poet as soon as he was born, afterwards 
the father of our poetry, and most admirably well vers'd in 
classical authors, and therefore belov'd of Cambden, Selden, 
Hoskins, Martin, &c. made his first entry on the stage of this 
vain world within the city of Westminster, (being the son of a 
grave minister) educated in the college school there, while 
Cambden was master, which was the reason why Ben did after- 
wards acknowledge, that all that he had in arts, and all that he 
knew, he ow'd to him. Thence his silly mother, who had married 
to her second husband a bricklayer, took him home, and made 
him, as 'tis said, work at her husband's trade. At length being 
pitied by some generous gentlemen, Cambden got him a better 
employment, which was to attend or accompany a son of sir 
Walt. Raleigh in his adventures, whereby gaining experience, 



438 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

made his company acceptable among many. After their return 
they parted, I think not in cold blood, and thereupon Ben went 
to Cambridge, and was, as 'tis said, statutably elected into St. 
John's coll. but what continuance he made there I tind not: 
Sure 'tis, that his geny being mostly poetical, he did afterwards 
recede to a nursery or obscure play-house called the Green 
Curtain, about Shoreditch or Clerkenwell, but his first action 
and writing there were both ill. At length improving his fancy 
much by keeping scholastical company, he betook himself again 
to write plays, which he did so admirably well, that he was 
esteemed paramount in the dramatic part of poetry, and to teach 
the stage an exact conformity to the laws of comedians. Where- 
upon sir Jo. Suckling bringing him into the Session of Poets, 
Ben broke silence, spoke to the poets, and 

Bid them remember how he had purg'd the stage 
Of errors that had lasted many an age. 
His own proper industry and addiction to books, especially to 
ancient poets and classical authors, made him a person of curious 
learning and judgment, and of singular excellence in the art of 
poetry. Which, with his accurate judgment and performance, 
known only to those few, who are truly able to judge of his 
works, have gain'd from the most eminent scholars of his time 
(particularly from the learned Selden) an increasing admiration. 
Dr. Rich. Corbet, of Ch. Ch. and other poets of this university, 
did, in reverence to his parts, invite him to Oxon, where continu- 
ing for some time in Ch. Ch. in writing and composing plays- 
he was, as a member thereof, actually created M. of A. in 1619, 
and therefore upon that account I put him among the Oxford 
writers, for at Cambridge his stay was but short, and whether 
he took a degree in that university, I cannot yet learn of any. 
His works are these . . . 

His Motives — Printed 1622, oct. He also had a hand in a 
com. called, The Widow. Lond. 1652, qu. [Bodl. 4to. S. 3. Art. 
B S.] Jo. Fletcher and Th. Middleton were his assistants. Also 
in Eastivard Hoe, Com. [1605, 4°-] assisted by Geo. Chapman, 
&:c. and did with Dr. Hacket (afterwards B. of Lichfield) translate 



TO BEN JONSON 439 

into Latin The Lord Bacon's Essays or Counsels Civil and Moral. 
At length B. Johnson, after he had arrived to the sixty-third 
year of his age, marched off from the stage of this vain world on 
the i6th of August in sixteen hundred thirty and seven, and 
was buried three days after in S. Peter's Church within the 
city of Westminster, commonly called the Abbey church, not 
among the poets, but at the west end near to the belfrey, under 
the escutcheon of Rob. de Ros, or Roos, with this engraven on 
a common pavement stone lying over his grave, at eighteen 
pence charge, given by Jack Young of Great Milton in Oxford- 
shire, (afterwards a knight by the favour of. K. Ch. II.) O Rare 
Ben Johnson. There was a considerable sum of money gathered 
from among the wits and virtuosi of his time for the erection of 
a monument and a Statua for him, but before they could be 
done, the rebellion broke forth and hindred the design; where- 
upon the money was refunded. I have been informed by a 
worthy prelate several years since deceased, that this poet Ben 
had a pension of an 100 £. per an. from the king, a pension also 
from the city of London, and the like from several of the nobility, 
and from some of the gentry, particularly from Sutton, founder 
of the hospital that now bears his name, which were commonly 
well paid either out of pure love to him, or out of fear of his 
railing in verse or prose, or both. When he was in his last 
sickness, the said prelate, who was then M. of A. did, among 
other of his acquaintance, often visit him, and as often heard 
him repent of his prophaning the scripture in his plays, and that 
with horror, &c. Many years after his death did appear to the 
world another poet of both his names, who writes himself in his 
Poems published 1672, "Ben Johnson junior," but what relation 
there was between him and the former I know not. (Vol. ii, 

pp. 611-15.) 

* * * * 

Over his [Thomas Overbury's] grave tho' no memory by writing 
was ever put, yet Ben. Johnson's epigram written to him will 
eternize it, and other verses by the wits of his time. (Vol. ii, 
p. 136.) 



440 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

July 19. [1620]. Benjamin Johnson the father of the English 
poets and poetry, and the most learned and judicious of the 
comedians, was then actually created master of arts in a full 
house of convocation. (Vol. ii, p. 392.) 

* * * * 

Robert Waring, ... To the said [the third] edition [of 

Effigies Amoris] is joined our author's Carmen Lapidorium , 

written to the memory of Ben. Johnson, which Griffith finding 

miserably mangled in Jonsonus Virhius, or Verses on the Death of 

Ben. Johnson, he, with his own hand, restored it to its former 

perfection and lustre, by freeing it from the errors of the press. 

(Vol. iii, p. 454.) 

[Athena Oxoniensis, ed. Philip Bliss, 1813-20. There are many passing 
allusions to Jonson of slighter interest; see i, 566, 764; ii, 208, 
250, 269, 272, 365, 369, 401, 402, 435, 502, 545, 655, 658; iii, 47, 
377, 456; iv, 222, 622.] 

Title-page, 1692. 

The Works of Ben Jonson, Which were formerly Printed in 

Two Volumes, are now Reprinted in One. To which is added a 

Comedy, called the New Inn. With Additions never before 

Published. Thomas Hogdkin, for H. Herringman, E. Brewster, 

T. Bassett, R. Chiswell, M. Wotton, G. Conyers. MDCXCII. 

[This edition has an engraved portrait of Jonson, by Elder, with the 
verses below written by Abraham Holland for the 161 6 Folio 
portrait.] 

Richard Lapthorne, 1692. 

Letter to Richard Coffin, October 15, i6g2. 
... I had a short view of Sir R. Cotton's Library. . . . Over 
the books are the Roman Emperors, I mean, their heads, in 
brass statues, which serve for standards in the Catalogue, to 
direct to find any particular book, viz., under such an Emperor's 
head, such an number. ... I had not time to look into the 
books; some relicts I took notice of, besides the books; viz., I 
saw there Sir H. Spelman's and Buchanons pictures, well don; 



TO BEN JONSON 441 

also, Ben Johnson's and Sir R. Cotton's, and in the staires was 

Widiffs. 

[Reproduced in the Fifth Report of the Royal Commission on Historical 
Manuscripts, 1876, p. 379. In the Report of the Historical Manu- 
scripts Commission on the Manuscripts of his Grace the Duke oj 
Portland, K. G., vi, 17, is recorded a letter from James Sykes to 
the Earl of Oxford: 1726, October 19. Lincolns Inn Fields. — Is 
ordered by his father's executors to apply for fifteen guineas, due 
for a picture of Chaucer. Has also pictures of Ben Jonson, 
Shakespeare and Milton, which he desires to give his Lordship the 
refusal of.] 

Anonymous, 1692-93. 

Epilogue. 

Spoken by one in deep Mourning. 

Enough of Mirth; the Sportive Scene is done. 

And a new doleful Theme is coming on : 

These Sable Robes, at Plays so seldom worn, 

Do silently express the Loss we mourn : 

SHADWELL, the great Support o' th' Comick Stage, 

Born to expose the Follies of the Age, 

To whip prevailing Vices, and unite 

Mirth with Instruction, Profit with Delight; 

For large Idea's, and a flowing Pen, 

First of our Times, and second but to Ben. . . . 

[Printed at the end of Shadwell's play, The Volunteers; Shadwell died 
in 1692.] 

John Dryden, 1693. 

It is not with an ultimate intention to pay reverence to the 
names of Shakespeare, Fletcher, and Ben Jonson, that they 
commend their writings, but to throw dirt on the writers of this 
age. . . . Peace be to the venerable shades of Shakespeare and 
Ben Jonson! none of the living will presume to have any com- 
petition with them; as they were our predecessors, so they were 
our masters. We trail our plays under them; but as at the 
funerals of a Turkish emperor, our ensigns are furled or dragged 
upon the ground, in honour to the dead, so we may lawfully 
advance our own afterwards, to show that we succeed; if less in 



442 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

dignity, yet on the same foot and title, which we think too we 

can maintain against the insolence of our own janizaries. 

* * * * 

What then would he [Homer] appear in the harmonious version 

of one of the best writers, living in a much better age than was 

the last? I mean for versification, and the art of numbers; for 

in the drama we have not arrived to the pitch of Shakespeare 

and Ben Jonson. 

[The Third Miscellany, 1693, Dedication; The Works of John Dryden' 
ed. Scott and Saintsbury, 1885, xii, 57, 68.] 

John Dryden, 1693. 

I was myself in the rudiments of my poetry, without name or 
reputation in the world, having rather the ambition of a writer, 
than the skill ; when I was drawing the outlines of an art, without 
any living master to instruct me in it; an art which had been 
better praised than studied here in England, wherein Shakespeare, 
who created the stage among us, had rather written happily, 
than knowingly and justly, and Jonson, who, by studying 
Horace, had been acquainted with the rules, yet seemed to envy 
to posterity that knowledge, and, like the inventor of some 
useful art, to make a monopoly of his learning. . . . 

The subject of this book confines me to Satire; and in that, 
an author of your own quality, (whose ashes I will not disturb,) 
has given you all the Commendation which his self-sufficiency 
could afford to any man.: "The best good man, with the worst- 
natured muse." In that character, methinks, I am reading 
Jonson's verses to the memory of Shakespeare; an insolent, 
sparing, and invidious panegyric: where good nature, the most 
godlike commendation of a man, is only attributed to your per- 
son, and denied to your writings. 

[Essay on Satire: Addressed to the Right Honourable Charles, Earl of 
Dorset, fifCv, prefixed to The Satires of Decimus Junius Juvenalis, 
1693-] 

Anonymous, 1693. 

Quest[ion] 4. What Books of Poetry woiid you Advise one that's 
Young, and extreamly delights in it, to read, both Divine and other? 



TO BEN JONSON 443 

A77S2v[er] .... Spencer's Fairy Queen, &c., Tasso's Godfrey 
of Bulloign, Shakespear, Beaumont and Fletcher, Ben. Johnson, 
Randal, Cleaveland, Dr. Donne, Gondibert, WALLER, all DRY- 
DEN, Tate, Oldham, Flatman, The Plain Dealer — and when you 
have done of these, We'll promise to provide you more. 
[The Athenian Mercury, Vol. xii, No. r, October 24, 1693.] 

Thomas Rymer, 1693. 

. . . For Tragedy, amongst others, Thomas Lord of Biickhiirst, 
whose Gorboduck is a fable, doubtless, better turn'd for Tragedy, 
than any on this side the Alps in his time; and might have been 
abetter direction to Shakespear and Ben. Johnson than any guide 
they have had the luck to follow. (P. 84.) 
* * * * 

From this time Dramatick Poetry began to thrive with us, and 
flourish wonderfully. The French confess they had nothing in 
this kind considerable till 1635, that the Academy Royal was 
founded. Long before which time we had from Shakespear, 
Fletcher, and Ben. Johnson whole Volumes; at this day in posses- 
sion of the Stage, and acted with greater applause than ever. 
(P. 85.) 

[A Short View of Tragedy, 1693. The volume is full of allusions to 
Jonson, and contains a long discussion of Catiline.] 

William Wotton, 1694. 

... It may be certainly affirmed, That the Grammar of Eng- 
lish is so far our own, that Skill in the Learned Languages is not 
necessary to comprehend it. Ben. Johnson was the first Man, 
that I know of, that did any Thing considerable in it: but he 
seems to have been too much possessed with the Analogy of 
Latin and Greek, to write a perfect Grammar of a Language 
whose Construction is so vastly different; tho' he falls. into a 
contrary Fault, when he treats of the English Syntax, where he 
generally appeals to Chaucer and Gower, who lived before our 
Tongue had met with any of that Polishing which, within these 
last cc Years, has made it appear almost entirely New. 

[Reflections upon Ancient and Modern Learning, 1694; in the second 
edition, 1697, pp. 59-60.] 



444 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

Sir Thomas Pope Blount, 1694. 

Benjamin Johnson. 

This Renoivned Poet, was born in the City of Westminster, his 
Mother Hving in Harts-Horn-Lane, near Charing-Cross, where 
she Married a Bricklayer for her Second Husband. But thb' he 
sprang from mean Parents, yet his admirable Parts have made 
him more famous, than those of a more conspicuous Extraction. 
Nor do I think it any diminution to him. That he was Son-in-Law 
to a Bricklayer, and work'd at that Trade; since if we take a 
survey of the Records of Antiquity, we shall find the greatest 
Poets of the meanest Birth, and most liable to the Inconveniencies 
of Life. Witness Homer, . . . Euripides, . . . Plautus, . . . 
Ncevius, . . . Terence, . . . Virgil, . . , : And yet these thought 
the obscurity of their Extraction no diminution to their Worth ; 
Nor will any Man of Sense reflect on a Varus, to free him from 
so slavish an Employment, and furnish him with Means to 
enjoy his Muse at liberty, in private. 'Twas then that he writ 
his Excellent Plays, and grew into Reputation with the most 
Eminent of our Nobility, and Gentry. 'Twas then, that Ciirth- 
wright, Ra?idolph, and others of both Universities, sought his 
Adoption; and gloried more in his Friendship, and the Title of 
his Sons, than in their own well-deserv'd Characters. Neither 
did he less love, or was less belov'd by the Famous Poets of his 
Time, Shakespear, Beaumont, and Fletcher. 

He was general'y esteem'd a Man of a very free Temper, and 

withal Blunt, and somewhat haughty to those, that were either 

Rivals in Fame, or Enemies to his Writings, (witness his Poetaster, 

wherein he falls upon Decker, and his answer to Dr. Gill, who 

writ against his Magnetick Lady,) otherwise of a good sociable 

Humour, when amongst his Soyis and Friends in the Apollo. 

[De Re Poetica: or Remarks upon Poetry with Characters and Censures 
of the most Considerable Poets whether Ancient or Modern, Extracted 
out of the Best and Choicest Criticks, 1694, pp. 104-12. As the 
title indicates, the volume is largely made up of extracts; on 
Jonson, Blount quotes from Dryden, the Earl of Rochester, 
Burnet, Rymer, Winstanley, Denham, Anthony a Wood, Shadwell, 
Gill, Suckling, Langbaine, and others.] 



TO BEN JONSON 445 

James Wright, 1694. 

But I beseech you Gentlemen, how comes this unmodish 
Opinion in you, against the Plays in Fashion? I'll tell you, 
continued Lisander, methinks they have neether the Wit, Con- 
duct, Honour, nor Design of those writ by Johnson, Shakespear, 

and Fletcher. 

* * * * 

Whereupon Julio, in a long Discourse, produced out of Ben. 
Johnson, Shakespear, Beaumont and Fletcher, Messenger, Shirley, 
and Sir William Davenant, before the Wars, and some Comedies 
of Mr. Drydens, since the Restauration, many Characters of 
Gentlemen, of a quite different Strain from those in the Modern 
Plays. 

[Country Conversations, 1694, pp. 3, 16.] 

T. B., 1695. 

• Time has devour'd the Younger Sons of Wit, 

Who liv'd when Chaucer, Spencer, Johnson writ: 

Those lofty Trees are of their Leaves bereft. 

And to a reverend Nakedness are left. . . . 

[Commendatory Verses, prefixed to the 1695 edition of Drayton's 
E?i gland's Her deal Epistles.] 

William Congreve, 1695. 

Sometimes Personal Defects are misrepresented for Humours. 

I mean, sometimes Characters are barbarously exposed on the 
Stage, ridiculing Natural Deformities, Casual Defects in the 
Senses, and Infirmities of Age. . . . But much need not be said 
upon this Head to any body, especially to you, who, in one of 
your Letters to me concerning Mr. Johnson's Fox, have justly 
excepted against this Immoral part of Ridicule in Corhaccio's 
Character; and there I must agree with you to blame him whom 
otherwise I cannot enough admire for his great Mastery of true 
Humour in Comedy. . . . 

The Character of Morose in the Silent Woman I take to be a 
Character of Humour. And I choose to instance this Character 
to you from many others of the same Author, because I know it 



446 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

has been Condemn'd by many as Unnatural and Farce: And 
you have your self hinted some dislike of it for the same Reason, 
in a Letter to me concerning some of Johnson'' s Plays. 

Let us suppose Morose to be a Man Naturally Splenetick and 
MelanchoUy; is there any thing more offensive to one of such 
a Disposition than Noise and Clamour? Let any Man that has 
the Spleen ... be Judge. . . . Well, but Morose, you will say, 
is so Extravagant, he cannot bear any Discourse or Conversation 
above a Whisper. Why, It is his excess of this Humour that 
makes him become Ridiculous, and qualifies his Character for 
Comedy. If the Poet had given him but a Moderate proportion 
of that Humour, 'tis odds but half the Audience would have 
sided with the Character and have Condemn'd the Author for 
Exposing a Humour which was neither Remarkable nor Ridicu- 
lous. Besides, the distance of the Stage requires the Figure 
represented to be something larger than the Life; and sure a 
Picture may have Features larger in Proportion, and yet be 
very like the Original. . . . 

The Character of Sir John Daw in the same Play is a Character 
of Affectation. He every where discovers an Affectation of 
Learning, when he is not only Conscious to himself, but the 
Audience also plainly perceives that he is Ignorant. . . . 

The Character of Coh in Every Man in his Humour and most 

of the under Characters in Bartholomew- Fair discover only a 

Singularity of Manners, appropriated to the several Educations 

and Professions of the Persons represented. They are not 

Humours but Habits contracted by Custom. 

[Mr. Congreve to Mr. Den?iis, Concerning Humour in Comedy, July lo, 
1695; from Letters upon several Occasions, 1696, pp. 80-96.] 

Thomas Brown, about 1697. 

Homer and Virgil were but Tools, 
Fit only for the Use of Fools. . . . 
Even Casaubon for Satire famous. 
Was but a jingling Ignoramus. 



TO BEN JONSON 447 

And all the rest, to Ben, and so forth, 
A Crew of useless things of no Worth: 

[A Recantation of his Satire on the French King; in The Works of Mr. 
Thomas Brown, 1730, iv, 215.] 

William Blundell, before 1698. 

See his 'Discoveries,' where he speaks of the envy towards an 
able writer who shall be better understood in another age. He 
showeth his abilities to be such, as if he hath given a character 
of himself. Ben Jonson's head is put up for a sign in London 
and sundry places. 

[A Cavalier's Note Book, ed. T. E. Gibson, 1S80, p. 224.] 

Jeremy Collier, 1698. 

As for Shakespear , he is too guilty [of immodesty] to make an 
Evidence: But I think he gains not much by his Misbehaviour; 
He has commonly Plautus's Fate, where there is most Smut, 
there is least Sense. 

Ben. Johnson is much more reserv'd in his Plays, and 
declares plainly for Modesty in his Discoveries. 

[A Short View of the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage, 
1698, p. 50. Collier frequently' alludes to Jonson, and takes 
occasion to discuss his plays, often at some length; see pp. 51, 57, 
77, 78, 126, 151-54, 157, 159, 187. Jonson figures in a similar 
way in the various answers to Collier's attack. These are, for 
the most part, omitted from the present volume.] 

Samuel Cobb, about 1699. 

The coin must sure for current sterling pass. 
Stamped with old Chaucer's venerable face. 
But Jonson found it of a gross allay. 
Melted it down, and flung the scum away. 
He dug pure silver from a Roman mine, 
And prest his sacred image on the coin. 
We all rejoiced to see the pillaged ore; 
Our tongue inriched, which was so poor before. 
Fear not, learned poet, our impartial blame. 
Such thefts as these add lustre to thy name. 



448 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

All yield, consenting to sustain the yoke, 

And learn the language which the victor spoke, 

So Macedon's imperial hero threw 

His wings abroad, and conquered as he flew. 

Great Jonson's deeds stand parallel with his, 

Are noble thefts, successful piracies. ... 

[Poetae Britannici, written, presumably, just before 1700, printed in 
Poems on Several Occasions, by Samuel Cobb, 1700, under the 
title Of Poetry: I. Its Antiquity. 2. Its Progress, j. Its Improve- 
ment.] 

J. Drake, 1699. 

I shall begin with Shakespear, whom notwithstanding the 

severity of Mr. Rhimer, and the hard usage of Mr. Collier, I 

must still think the Proto-Dramatist of England, tho he fell 

short of the Art of Jolunon, and the Conversation of Beaumont 

and Fletcher. 

[The Antient and Modern Stages suniey'd. Or, Air. Collier's View of 
the Immorality and Profaness of the English Stage Set in a True 
Light, 1699, p. 201.] 

James Wright, 1699. 

Lovew. The more's the pity: But what said the Fortune- 

Teller in Ben. Johnson's Mask of Gypsies, to the then Lord Privy 

Seal, 

Honest and Old! 

In those the Good Part of a Fortune is told. 

Trum. Ben. Johnson? How dare you name Ben. Johnson in 
these times? When we have such a crowd of Poets of a quite 
diff"erent Genius; the least of which thinks himself as well able 
to correct Ben. Johnson, as he could a Country School Mistress 
that taught to Spell. 

Lovew. We have indeed. Poets of a different Genius; so are 
the Plays: But in my Opinion, they are all of 'em (some few 
excepted) as much inferior to those of former Times, as the 
Actors now in being (generally speaking) are. . . . When the 
Question has been askt. Why these Players do not receive the 
Silent Woman, and some other of Johnson's Plays, (once of 
highest esteem) they have answer 'd, truly. Because there are 



TO BEN JONSON 449 

none now Living who can rightly Humour those Parts, for all 
who related to the Black-friers (where they were Acted in per- 
fection) are now Dead, and almost forgotten. . , . 

Lovew. . . . But pray Sir, what Master Parts can you remem- 
ber the Old Black-friers Men to Act, in Johnson, Shakespear, 
and Fletcher's Plays. 

Trum. What I can at present recollect Pll tell you; Shake- 
spear, (who as I have heard, was a much better Poet, than Player) 
Burbage, Hemmings, and others of the Older sort, were Dead 
before I knew the Town; but in my time, before the Wars, 
Lowin used to Act, with mighty Applause, Falstaffe, Morose, 
Vulpone, and Mammon in the Alchymist; Melancius in the Maid's 
Tragedy, and at the same time Amyntor was Play'd by Stephen 
Hammerton, . . . Tayler Acted Hamlet incomparably well, Jago, 
Truewit in the Silent Woman, and Face in the Alchymist; Swans- 
ton used to Play Othello; Pollard, and Robinson were Comedians, 
so was Shank who used to Act Sir Roger, in the Scornful Lady. 
These were of the Black-friers. 

[Historia Histrionica: A Dialogue of Plays and Players, 1699, pp. 1-3.] 

Thomas Brown, 1699. 

If antiquity carries any weight with it, the fair [Bartholomew- 
Fair] has enough to say for itself on that head. Fourscore 
years ago, and better, it afforded matter enough for one of our 
best comedians to compose a play upon it. But Smith field is 
another sort of a place now to what it was in the times of honest 
Ben; who, were he to rise out of his grave, wou'd hardly believe 
it to be the same nuperical spot of ground where justice Over-do 
made so busy a figure, where the crop-ear'd parson demolish'd 
a gingerbread-stall; where Nightingale, of harmonious memory, 
sung ballads, and fat Ursula sold pig and bottled-ale. 

One would almost swear, that Smithfield had removed into 
Drury-lane and Lincolns-Inn- Fields, since they set so small a 
value on good sense, and so great a one on trifles that have no 
relation to the play. . . . Shortly, I suppose, we shall be enter- 

30 



450 AN ALLUSION-BOOK 

tain'd here with all sorts of fights and shows, as, jumping thro' 
a hoop; . . . dancing upon the high ropes, leaping over eight 
men's heads, wrestling, boxing, cudgelling, fighting at back- 
sword, quarter-staff, bear-baiting, and all the other noble exer- 
cises that divert the good folks at Hockley; . . . 

What a wretched pass is this wicked age come to, when Ben. 
Johnson and Shakespear won't relish without these Bagatelles 
to recommend them, and nothing but farce and grimace will 
go down? 

[A Letter to George Moult, Esq., August 30, 1699, and A Letter to George 
Moult, Esq. upon the breaking up of Bartholomew Fair, September 
12, 1699; in The Works of Mr. Thomas Brown, Serious and Comical, 
in Prose and Verse, 1730, i, 190, 193.] 

Title-page, before 1700. 
Bacchus turn'd Doctor, written by Ben Johnson. 

[Hazlitt, Hand-Book, describes this as "a sheet, in double columns, 
with the music. The type is engraved, and there is a large en- 
graving at the head of the broadside. Bagford Call." Whether 
this title-page makes use of the name of the dramatist or not is 
not clear.] 

Anonymous, before 1700. 

To the Memory of John Dryden, Esq. 
Methinks I see the Reverend Shades prepare 
With Songs of Joy, to waft thee through the Air. . . . 
Where Chaucer, Johnson, Shakespear, and the rest, 
Kindly embrace their venerable Guest. 
[Luctus Britannici, 1700, p. 36.] 

Thomas Brown, before 1700. 
The scull of Goliah was brought in for a punch-bowl fill'd 
with such incomparable Heliconian juice, that six drops of it 
would make a man a better poet than either Shakespear or Ben. 
Johnson. 

[Letters from the Dead to the Living: Bully Dawson to Bully Watson; 
printed in The Works of Mr. Thomas Brown, 1730, ii, 190.] 



ERRATA ET ADDENDA 

P. 3. The following passage in a letter from Tobie Mathew 
to Dudley Carleton, September 20, 1588, (now preserved in the 
State Papers, Domestic Series, CCLXVIII, 67), seems to allude 
to Every Man in his Humor: "There were with him divers 
Almans, where of, one, lost out of his purse, at a play 3 hundred 
Crownes. A new play called. Every mans humour." The 
"new play of humours in very great request," referred to in 
a letter from John Chamberlain to Carleton, June 11, 1597, 
cannot, as Mrs. Stopes {Southampton, p. 106) thinks, refer to 
Every Man in his Humor. 

P. 59, line 9. For "Sir John Cleveland" read "John Cleve- 
land." 

P. 94 (cf. pp. 264, 440). The portrait, with the lines by 
A. H., though reproduced in W. Bang's facsimile reprint of 
the 1 61 6 Folio (from which this entry was made), and often 
inserted in copies of the 1616 Folio, was obviously not engraved 
until after the death of Jonson in 1637. In 1640 it appears 
in both the Second Folio and Execration Against Vulcan. Some 
copies of the plate have at the bottom: "Are to be sould in 
Popes head alley at the white horse by Geo. Humble"; others 
have the statement concerning the sale of the portrait erased, 
though a few of the letters are still decipherable. 

P. 298, line 29. For "Herringham" read "Herringman." 

P. 299, line 5. For ''The Wild-Goose Chase" read "Second 
Folio." 



451 



INDEX 



Academy of Pleasure, The, 308. 

Adsworth, Mr., 136. 

Alton, Sir R., 112, 353. 

Alexander, Sir William, 112. 

Alieyn, Edward, 2, 5, 14, 33. 

Allot, Robert, England's Parnassus, 8. 

Amaryllis to Tityrus, 399. 

Andrews, Dr., 136. 

Anton, Robert, The Philosophers 
Satyrs, 98. 

Arrowsmith, William, The Reforma- 
tion, 373. 

Ashley, Sir John, 128. 

Asmund and Cornelia, 2. 

Astley, Sir John, 122. 

Atchlow, Thomas, 8. 

Athenian Mercury, The, 423, 443. 

Aubrey, John, Brief Lives, 352-58. 

Aungerville, Richard, 309. 

Austin, Samuel, Naps upon Parnas- 
sus, 317. 

Aylward, Paul, 282. 

Ayton, Sir Robert, 112, 353. 

B., Ev., 52. 

B-, I-, 334- 

B., T., 445. 

Bacchus Turned Doctor, 450. 

Bacon, Sir Francis, 115, 165, 280, 309, 
314. 352, 360, 387, 439. 

Bad Beginning Makes a Good Ending, 
^,84. 

Baker, Sir Richard, Balzack's Epis- 
tles, 314; Chronicle of England, 276, 

321,334- 
Bancroft, Thomas, Glutton's Feaver, 

175; Two Books of Epigrams, 260. 
Barclay, John, 126, 280. 
Barnefield, Richard, 8. 
Baron, Robert, Cyprian Academy, 

292; Mirza, 285, 424. 
Bartas, Guillaume de Salluste du, 

310,314. 



Barwick, Edward, 321. 
Baskerville, Sir Simon, 136. 
Basse, William, 311. 
Beaumont, Francis, 57, 65, 72, 78, 
81, 82, 83, 99, 112, 120, 157, 168, 

175, 192, 228, 235, 242, 263, 270, 
273, 279, 281, 282, 286, 287, 288, 
289, 293, 300, 301, 302, 303, 304, 
305, 307, 309, 313, 316, 317, 321, 
325. 327. 328, 331, 332, 333. 340, 
341. 343, 349, 351, 352, 360, 363, 
367, 372, 373, 374, 375, 379, 385, 
386, 396, 403, 409, 410, 413, 429, 

431, 437, 443, 444. 445, 448. (See 
also "Beaumont, Francis, and John 
Fletcher.") 
Beaumont, Francis, and John Fletch- 
er, The Beggar's Bush, 320, 326; 
The Bloody Brother, 320, 386, 396; 
The Chances, 326; The Elder 
Brother, 320, 326; The Faithful 
Shepherdess, 287; Folio of 1647, 
286-89; The Humorous Lieutenant, 
320, 325; A King and No King, 
320, 326, 386, 396, 405; The Maid's 
Tragedy, 320, 326, 386, 396, 449; 
Philaster, 320, 326, 343; The 
Prophetess, 421; Rollo, Duke of 
Normandy, 326; Rtile a Wife and 
Have a Wife, 325; The Scornful 
Lady, 176, 275, 320, 326, 349, 449; 
The Spanish Curate, 322; The Two 
Noble Kinsmen, 273; Wit Without 
Money, 320; The Woman's Prize, 

176, 320, 322. (See also "Francis 
Beaumont," "John Fletcher.") 

Beaumont, Sir John, 72, 211, 314. 

Beeston, William, 300. 

Behn, Aphra, The Amorous Prince, 

360; The Emperor of the Moon, 

415- 



453 



454 



INDEX 



Belasye, Henry, An English Travel- 
ler's First Curiosity, 313. 
Bell, William, 297. 
Ben Jonson's Head, The, 334, 373, 

404. 
Berkeley, Sir W., The Lost Lady, 259. 
Berkenhead, John, 288. 
Betterton, Thomas, 421. 
Bew, William, 253. 
Bird, William, see Borne. 
Blagrove, William, 168. 
Blount, Edward, Characters, see John 

Earle. 
Blount, Sir Thomas Pope, De Re 

Poetica, 444. 
Blundell, William, A Cavalier's Note 

Book, 447. 
Bodenham, John, Belvedere, 7-8. 
Bodine, John, 280. 
Bolton, Edmund, 56, loi ; Concer7t- 

ing Historicall Language and Style, 

72; Hypercritica, 109. 
Bond, John, 90. 
Borne, William, 5, 33. 
Bosworth, William, The Chaste and 

Lost Lovers, 298. 
Boyle, Robert, Some Considerations, 

329- 

Bradford, Thomas, 292. 

Breedy, Daniel, 283. 

Brent, Nathaniel, 102, 108. 

Breton, Nicholas, 8, 30; No Whip- 
pinge, Nor Trippinge, 30. 

Brideoake, Ralph, 240, 255. 

Brooke, Lord, see Fulke Greville. 

Brooke, Christopher, 90. 

Brome, Alexander, 424; Poems; 334. 

Brome, Richard, 144, 289, 302, 311, 
319, 321, 340, 352, 379, 414, 424; 
The Antipodes, 259, 267; The City 
Wit, 152; A Jovial Crew, 299, 300, 
326, 414; The Northern Lass, 412, 
414, 424; The Sparagus Garden, 
414; The Weeding of Covetit Garden, 
258, 316. 

Brown, Thomas, The Late Converts 
Exposed, 421; A Letter to George 
Moult, 449; Letters from the Dead 



to the Living, 450; To Mr. Drydent 
410; The Reasons of Mr. Bays' s 
Changing his Religion, 417; A Re- 
cantation, 446. 

Browne, Sir Thomas, Pseudodoxia 
Epidemica, 309. 

Browne, William, 310, 314; Brit- 
annia's Pastorals, 93. 

Buc, Sir George, 122, 128, 287. 

Buchanon, George, 440. 

Buckhurst, Lord, see Richard and 
Thomas Sackville. 

Buckingham, Duke of, see George 
Villiers. 

Buckinghamshire, Duke of, see John 
Sheffield. 

Bude, William, 280. 

Burbage, Richard, 332, 449. 

Burkhead, Henry, Cola's Furie, 282, 
283. 

Burlase, Sir William, 128. 

Burnet, Gilbert, 444; Trans. More's 
Utopia, 409. 

Burt, Nicholas, 336. 

Burton, Robert, 122, 314, 351. 

Bury, Richard De, 309. 

Busino, Horatio, Anglipotrida, 103. 

Bust, Matthew, 136. 

Butler, Samuel, 424; Characters, 397; 
Hudihras, 327, 351. 

Butter, Nathaniel, 178. 

C, G., 59- 

C., L, 58, 145; Epigrames, 36. 

C, R., 298. 

C., R., The Time's Whistle, 90, 187. 

Cabbala, or Collections of Letters of 
State, 327. 

Cambises, 26. 

Camden, William, 112, 113, 115, 316, 
354. 357, 359, 377, 378, 411, 430, 
437; Remaines Concerning Brit- 
aine, 33. 

Campion, Thomas, 33. 

Candish, Jeremy, 317. 

Cardano, 84. 

Cardennio, 84. 

Carew, Thomas, 147, 157, 209, 303, 
309, 314, 321, 334, 349, 375, 434- 



INDEX 



455 



Carey, Lucius, Viscount Falkland, 
169, 170, 203, 350, 352; An Elegy 
on Dr. Donne, 166. 

Carlell, Lodowick, Arviragus and 
Philicia, 193. 

Carleton, Sir Dudley, 40. 

Cart Wright, Thomas (William?), 334. 

Cartwright, William, 228, 287, 296, 
297, 298, 305, 309, 321, 334 (?), 
352,425, 429,431,444. 

Cary, Thomas, 281. 

Caryl, John, The English Princess, 
336. 

Casaubon, Isaac, 280, 446. 

Cavendish, Margaret, Duchess of 
Newcastle, 324; Philosophical Let- 
ters, 331; Poems and Fancies, 331. 

Cavendish, William, i Earl of New- 
castle, 167, 331, 435; The Country 
Captain (reprinted by Bullen as 
Captain Underwit), 322; The Hu- 
morous Lovers, 385; The Trium- 
phant Widow, 385; The Variety, 
258. 

Censure of Rota, 373. 

Cervantes, Miguel de, Don Quixote, 

351- 

Chaloner, Sir Thomas, 165. 

Chamberlain, John, 39, 62, 64, 85, 
86, 87, 88, 99, 100, 103, 107, 108, 
121, 122, 126, 130, 131, 133, 134, 
136. 

Chamberlain, Robert, 424. 

Chapman, George, 3, 13, 33, 35, 42, 
43, 44. 59, 72, 83, 99, 102, 112, 113, 
120, 127, 165, 175, 180, 215, 270, 
274, 286, 287, 308, 309, 314, 340, 
425; Bussy D'Ambois, 259, 320, 
322, 399, 417, 424, 425; Eastward 
Hoe, 42, 43, 85, 86, 113, 425, 438; 
Epicure's Frugality, 187. 

Character of Wit's Squint-Ey'd Maid, 
The, 401. 

Chaucer, Geoffrey, 120, 248, 273, 304, 
308, 309, 311, 315, 316, 317, 327, 
331, 333, 347, 351, 352, 359, 373, 
375, 378, 406, 408, 416, 423, 441, 
443, 445, 447, 450- 



Chester, Robert, 13. 

Chettle, Henry, England's Mourning 

Garment, 34; Hot Anger Soon 

Cold, 3; Robert II, King of Scots, 5. 
Chetwood, Knightly, 406. 
Choyce Drollery, 310, 311. 
Christmas Ordinary, The, 319. 
Churchyard, Thomas, 8, 165, 310. 
Clarendon, Earl of, see Edward 

Hyde. 
Cleveland, John, 59, 147, 224, 303, 

307, 314, 317, 321, 407, 419, 423, 

443- 
Clifford, Martin, Notes upon Mr. 

Drydens Poems, 415. 
Clun, Walter, 330, 351, 356. 
Cobb, Samuel, Poetce Britannici, 447. 
Cokaine, Sir Aston, 168, 302, 424; 

The Obstinate Lady, 260; Small 

Poems, 317. 
Colepepper, Sir Thomas, 159. 
Collier, Jeremy, 448; A Short View 

of the Immorality, 447. 
Congreve, Wm., Letters upon Several 

Occasioiis, 445. 
Constable, Henry, 7, 72, 172, 308. 
Cook, John, King Charles his Case, 

293- 
Cooke, J., Greene's Tu Quoque, 136. 
Cooke, Thomas, 119. 
Corbett, Richard, 140, 438; The 

Time's Whistle, 91. 
Correr, Marc' Antonio, 69, 70, 73, 

74, 75, 76. 
Coryat, Thomas, 117; Coryat's 

Crudities, 78, 79, 412; A Letter 

from the Court of the Great Mogul, 

89. 
Cotton, Charles, 317, 349. 
Cotton, Sir John, 109. 
Cotton, Sir Robert, 53, 90, 102, 113, 

136, 140, 440. 
Covent Garden Drolery, T)'J2. 
Coventry, Henry, 216. 
Cowley, Abraham, 314, 334, 338, 340, 

347, 350, 373, 384, 398, 403, 404, 
406, 423, 424; Cutter of Coleman 



456 



INDEX 



Street, 329; The Guardian, 274; 
Poems, 312. 

Crashaw, Richard, 314. 

Craven, Mr., 118. 

Crow, Sackville, 121. 

Culpeper, Sir Thomas, Essayes, 359. 

D., D., 58. 

D., I., 57; The English Lovers, 324. 

D., T., 373, 423. 

Daborne, Robert, 85, 309. 

Daniel, George, 256, 258, 283, 313; 
nOATAOriA, 292. 

Daniel, Samuel, 7, 33, 37, 72, 99, 
112, 120, 127, 165, 279, 308, 309, 
310, 314, 316, 351, 407. 

Darel, Dr., 141. 

D'Avenant, Charles, Circe, 406. 

D'Avenant, Sir William, 157, 187, 
276, 279, 281, 293, 302, 315, 319, 
321, 333, 334, 338, 339, 352, 359, 
374, 384, 423, 445; Albovine, 295; 
Condibert, 304, 443; The Just 
Italian, 141; The Tempest, 337; 
The Unfortunate Lovers, 320; Wit 
and Drollery, 324. 

Davenport, Robert, A New Trick to 
Cheat the Divell, 260. 

Davies, Sir John, 8, 120, 165. 

Davies, John, of Hereford, A Con- 
tinued Inquisition, 134; Papers 
Complaint, .80; The Scourge of 
Folly, 81 ; Wit's Bedlam, 100. 

Davies, John (lexicographer), 153. 

Day, John, 112, 436; The Blind 
Beggar of Bednal-Green, 317; Hu- 
mour out of Breath, 55. 

Dee, John, 353. 

Dekker, Thomas, 3, 83, 165, 192, 
274, 309, 310, 316, 379, 413, 424, 
425, 431, 444; A Knight's Con- 
juring, 54; Page of Plymouth, 5; 
Robert II, King of Scots, 5 ; Satiro- 
mastix, 14-29, 80, 190, 379, 413, 

425, 432. 
Denham, Sir John, 286, 373, 384, 

404, 406, 422, 444; Cooper's Hill, 

314; Poems, 347. 
Denny, William, 193. 



Derby, Earl of, see Ferdinando 
Stanley. 

Description of the Academy of the 
Athenian, A, 373. 

Digby, Sir Kenelm, 102, 201, 209, 
303, 318, 349, 353. 

Digges, Sir Dudley, 218. 

Digges, Leonard, 188, 310. 

Dillon, Wentworth, 4 Earl of Ros- 
common, An Essay on Translated 
Verse, 406; Horace: Of the Art of 
Poetry, 408. 

Dixon, Nicholas, 273. 

Doddridge, Richard, 268. 

Donne, George, 236. 

Donne, John, 34, 37, 56, 68, 90, 116, 
120, 122, 166, 242, 270, 279, 303, 
306, 313, 315, 317, 407, 443; Wit 
and Drollery, 324. 

Dorset, Earl of, see Charles, Richard, 
and Thomas Sackville. 

Dover, Robert, Annalia Dubrensia, 

193- 
Downes, John, Roscius Anglicanus, 

325- 

Downey, Nicholas, 269. 

Downton, Thomas, Robert II, King 
of Scots, 5. 

Drake, J., The Anlient and Modern 
Stages Survey'd, 448. 

Drayton, Michael, 3, 8, 33, 80, 102, 
112, 120, 127, 134, 137, 165, 193, 
274, 281, 304, 305, 308, 309, 310, 
314, 316, 317, 324, 378, 407, 445; 
Heroical Epistles, 72 ; Of Poets and 
Poesie, 139. 

Drummond, William, 37, 117, 118; 
Conversations, in. 

Dryden, John, 351, 359, 373, 374. 
386, 398, 401, 403, 406, 410, 415, 
417, 418, 424, 425, 426, 427, 428, 
429, 430, 431, 432, 433, 436, 437, 
443, 444, 445, 450; Almanzor and 
Almahide, 368, 415, 426; The 
Assignation, 375; The Conquest of 
Granada, 366, 367, 368, 373, 431, 
436; A Defence of an Essay of 
Dramatic Poesy, 345; Essay of 



INDEX 



457 



Dramatic Poesy, 187, 340-345, 431; 
Essay on Satire, 442; An Evening's 
Love, 326, 366; The Grounds of 
Criticism, 396; Mac-Flecknoe, 403; 
The Maiden Queen, see Secret 
Love; Prologue to Albumazar, 346; 
Prologue to Circe, 405; Prologue 
to Julius Ccesar, 371; Prologue to 
The Mistakes, 421; Prologue and 
Epilogue to The Silent Woman, 
376; Prologue to the University 
of Oxford, 376; Secret Love, 326, 
336; Sir Martin Mar- All, 337; 
The Mock Astrologer, see An 
Evening's Love, 326; The Spanish 
Friar, 399, 417; The Tempest, 337; 
The Third Miscellany, 441; Trans- 
lation of Ovid's Epistles, 398; 
Troilus and Cressida, 397; The 
Vindication, 405; The Wild Gal- 
lant, 329. 

Du Bartas, Guillaume de Salluste, 
310,314. 

Duck, Sir Arthur, 136. 

Duffet, Thomas, 432. 

Dugdale, Gilbert, The Time Tri- 
umphant, 38. 

Dugdale, Sir William, 327. 

Dunbar, John, Epigrammaton, 98. 

Duport, James, Musce Subsecivce, 382. 

Duppa, Bryan, 201, 202, 203. 

D'Urfey, Thomas, 423 (?); Butler's 
Ghost, 403; Collin's Walk through 
London and Westminster, 420; A 
New Essay, 420. 

Durham, William, 193. 

Dutch Gazette, The, 335. 

Dyer, Sir Edward, 7, 120, 165. 

Earle, John, Blotmt's Characters, i.e., 
Microcosmography , 314. 

Edes, Richard, 3. 

Edmonds, Sir Thomas, 39. 

Egerton, Thomas, Lord Ellesmere, 

353- 
Elegies Sacred to the Memory of R. 

Lovelace, T)22. 
Eliot, — , 195. 
Ellis, Edmund, Dia Poemata, 307. 



England's Jests Refin'd, 414. 

Erasmus, Desidirus, 280. 

Etheredge, Sir George, The Comical 

Revenge, 332. 
Evans, Samuel, 254. 
Evelyn,, Mr., The Immortality of 

Poesie, 408. 
P., I., 60. 

Fairfax, Henry, 333. 
Falkland, Viscount, see Lucius Carey. 
Famous Tragedie of King Charles I, 

The, 293. 
Fane, Sir Francis, 410; Love in the 

Dark, 380. 
Fane, Mildmay, 2 Earl of West- 
moreland, 200, 307. 
Farnaby, Thomas, 136; Martialis 

Epigrammata, 279. 
Fealty, Daniel, 172. 
Feltham, Owen, 150, 234, 433, 435; 

Lusoria, 152. 
Fennor, William, 97, 298; Fennor's 

Descriptions, 98. 
Ferrabosco, Alfonso, 77. 
Ferrand, James, EPQTOMANIA, 270. 
Ferrers, Edward, 3. 
Field, Nathaniel, 60, 79, 89, 112, 332. 
Finnett, John, Finnetti Philoxenis, 87, 

93, 103, 120, 121, 123, 125, 129, 131, 

134- 

Fitzgeoffrey, Charles, 432; Affanice: 
sive Epigrammatutn, 12. 

Fitzgeoffrey, Henry, Certain Elegies, 
119. 

Flatman, Thomas, 443. 

Flecknoe, Richard, 403; A Discourse 
of the English Stage, 332; Epi- 
grams, 359; Love's Kingdom, 332; 
Miscellania, 301; Sir William 
D'Avenants Voyage to the Other 
World, 339. 

Fletcher, John, 60, 65, 79, 83, 112, 
120, 165, 168, 192, 228, 270, 275, 
279, 281, 282, 283, 286, 287, 288, 
289, 293, 295, 296, 298, 300, 301, 
302, 304, 305, 307, 308, 309, 312, 
313, 316, 317, 321, 324, 325, 328, 
329. 331, 332, 333. 337, 340, 34i» 



458 



INDEX 



342, 343. 344. 347, 349. 35 1. 352, 
359. 360, 363, 366, 367, 368, 369, 
370, 373, 374, 375, 376, 379, 384, 
385, 386, 396, 401, 403, 404, 405, 
409, 410, 413, 415, 417, 419, 421, 
424, 426, 427, 429, 431, 434, 435, 
436, 437, 438, 441, 443, 444, 445, 
448, 449; Cardennio, 84; The 
Widow, 299, 320, 322, 326, 435, 
438. (See also "Beaumont, Fran- 
cis, and John Fletcher.") 

Florio, John, 61. 

Ford, John, 141, 172, 189, 192, 239, 
310, 424; An III Beginning has 
a Good End, 84; The Lover's 
Melancholy, 141. 

Ford, William, 90. 

Forde, Thomas, Love's Labyrinth, 
321. 

Fortescue, George, 219. 

Foscarini, Antonio, 88. 

Fraunce, Abraham, 165. 

Fuller, Thomas, 431; The Holy State, 
315; The Holy War, 309; Worthies, 

27^, 327, 407, 412. 

G., C., 267. 

Garrat, George, 90. 

Gascoigne, George, 8, 165. 

Gayton, Edmund, The Art of Lon- 
gevity, 317; Festivous Notes, 303. 

Gerrard, George, 94, 100. 

Gesner, C., ^2j. 

Gildon, Charles, 187. 

Gill, Alexander, 177, 179, 431, 444. 

Giustinian, Zorzi, 61, 62, 63. 

Glapthorne, Henry, Argalus and 
Parthenia, 326; White-Hall, 275. 

Godolphin, John, 209. 

Goffe, Thomas, 293, 309, 335. 

Gomersall, Robert, 175, 314. 

Goodwin, R., 161. 

Gough, Alexander, 299. 

Gould, Robert, Poems, 404. 

Gower, Edward, 321. 

Gower, John, 120, 308, 309, 359, 443. 

Grant, Doctor, 141. 

Great Assises Holden in Parnassus, 
The, 282. 



Greene, Robert, 8, 35-36 (?), 120, 

192; Groatsivorth of Wit, 79. 
Greene, Thomas (?), 35, 36. 
Gresley, Sir George, 159. 
Greville, Sir Fulke, 7; Mustapha, 72. 
Grotius, Hugo, 281. 
H., A., A Continued Inquisition 

against Paper-Persecutors, 80. 
Habington, William, 143, 220, 314. 
Hacket, John, 387, 438. 
Hackwell, William, 90. 
Hales, John, 187, 274, 342. 
Hall, Mr., 437. 
Hall, J., 3or. 
Hall, John, 299. 
Hall, S., 269. 

Hammerton, Stephen, 449. 
Harding, John (?), 317. 
Harding, Samuel, Sicily and Naples, 

268, 269. 
Harington, Sir John, 7, 120, 165, 308; 

Orlatido Furioso, 314. 
Harmony of the Muses, The, 303. 
Harrington, Henry, 289. 
Harris, Joseph, 336; The Mistakes, 

421. 
Harwood, Sir Edward, 107. 
Haustead, Peter, 430; The Rival 

Friends, 430; Senile Odium, 185, 

186. 
Hawkins, Sir Thomas, 202, 213. 
Hayward, Edward, 96. 
Hectors, The, or the False Challenge, 

309- 
Heinsius, Daniel, 281. 
Heminges, John, 84, 449. 
Henslowe, Philip, i, 2, 5, 14, 33, 85. 
Heraclitus Ride?is, 402 . 
Herbert, Edward, Lord of Cherbury, 

265. 
Herbert, George, 314, 317. 
Herbert, Sir Gerard, 108. 
Herbert, Sir Henry, 128, 130, 131, 

134, 136, 141, 160, 168, 176, 177, 

188, 193, 275, 320, 322. 
Herbert, Mary, Countess of Pem- 
broke, 7. 



INDEX 



459 



Herbert, Philip, Earl of Pembroke 
and Montgomery, 194. 

Hermeticall Banquet, A, 298. 

Herrick, Robert, 137; Hesperides, 
290, 291. 

Herringman, Henry, 298, 396. 

Heyns, Jo., 432. 

Heyrick, Thomas, 422. 

Heywood, Thomas, 83, 120, 166, 193, 
274, 281, 298, 310, 314, 340, 352, 
433. 436; The English Traveller, 
175; The Fair Maid of the West, 
167; The Four Apprentices of 
London, 381; The Hierarchie, 192, 

314- 
Hills, Robert, 285. 
Hobbes, Thomas, 352, 353, 410. 
Hodgson, William, 264. 
Holland, Abraham, 94, 134, 264, 440. 

(See Errata, p. 451.) 
Holland, Hugh, 33, 49. 
Holland, Samuel, Don Zara del Fogo, 

308. 
Holt, Dr., 141. 
Holyday, Barton, 265, 315. 
Hoskyns, John, 90, 353, 354, 437. 
Howard, Edward, Caroloiades, 416; 

The Change of Crowns, 335; Poems 

and Essays, 374; The Womens 

Conquest, 363. 
Howard, Henry, i Earl of North- 
ampton, 72. 
Howard, Henry, Earl of Surrey, 7, 

72, 273. 
Howard, Sir Robert, The Great 

Favorite, or the Duke of Lerma, 338. 
Howard, Thomas, Earl of Surrey, 

error for Henry Howard, q. v., 7. 
Howe, Joseph, 289. 
Howell, James, 222, 286, 315, 359; 

Epistolce Ho-EliancB, 152, 153, 190, 

191, 194, 202. 
Howes, Edmund, Annales, 74, 86, 

165. 
Hudson, Thomas, 8. 

Huntington, , 317. 

Hyde, Edward, Earl of Clarendon, 

349- 



I., W., The Whipping of the Satyre, 29. 

Izod, Francis, 193. 

J-, F., 295. 

James, Francis, 138. 

James, Richard, 137, 138. 

Jevon, Thomas, The Devil of a Wife, 

410. 
Johnson, Robert, 77. 
Jones, Inigo, 76, 77, 102, 108, 114, 

130, 160, 168, 176, 178, 190, 191, 

305, 333- 
JoNsoN, Bent, 

The Alchemist, 73, 82, 84, 128, 147, 
153. 156, 168, 189, 191, 196, 198, 
226, 227, 228, 262, 291, 303, 313, 
322, 323, 325, 326, 330, 331, 338, 
341, 345. 346. 350, 353. 378, 407. 
422, 432, 449. 

Ars Poetica, 116, 147, 264, 265, 266, 
267, 398, 401. 

The Augurs, 123, 125, 126, 263. 

Bacchus Turn'd Doctor, 450. 

Bartholomew Fair, 85, 87, 89, 166, 
167, 264, 313, 322, 323, 326, 330, 
337, 338. 341. 345, 350, 362, 379, 
407, 420, 432, 436, 446, 449. 

Beauty, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65. 

Ben Jon son his Motives, 126. 

Ben Jonson: His Part of King 
James His Royall and Magnifi- 
cent Entertainment, 38. 

Blackness, 39, 40, 41, 65. 

The Case is Altered, 8, 37, 70. 7i- 

Catiline, 78, 79, 80, 153, 163, 188, 
191, 207, 215, 219, 226, 231, 235, 
244, 249, 267, 269, 276, 285, 292, 
295. 319, 326, 330, 336, 338, 339, 
341, 342, 344, 345, 368, 369, 377, 

378, 379, 380, 381, 383, 386, 387, 
395, 401, 402, 405, 408, 409, 416, 
424, 432, 443. 

The Characters of Two Royal Mas- 
ques, 65. 
Chloridia, 159, 160. 
On the Court Pucelle, 117. 
Cynthia's Revels, 11, 156, 191, 273, 

379, 407- 



460 



INDEX 



The Devil is an Ass, 116, 264, 270, 

325, 326, 327, 331, 377, 420. 
Discoveries, 344, 447. 

Eastward Hoe, 42, 43, 85, 86, 113, 

425, 438. 

English Grammar, 183, 443. 

EpiccBne, 73, 81, 82, 117, 119, 156, 
191, 193, 194, 196, 260, 304, 320, 
321, 322, 323, 326, 330, 335, 336, 
339, 341. 342, 344, 346, 349, 368, 
376, 378, 402, 407, 421, 430, 433, 
445, 446, 448, 449- 

Epigrams, 81, 153, 260, 354, 355, 
379, 408. 

Every Man in His Humor, 6, 8, 12, 
14, 21, 29, 40, 54, 80, 160, 191, 

326, 335, 343, 354, 368, 370, 371, 
380,426,432,446,451. 

Every Man out of His Humor, 6, 8, 
21, 28, 29, 40, 54, 80, 122, 228, 
261, 318, 326, 354, 358, 375, 376, 
432. 

An Execration upon Vulcan, 264, 

311,356,451- 
The Forest, 9. 
The Fortunate Isles, 134, 135, 136, 

141. 
The Fountain of Self- Love, 12. 
The Golden Age Restored, 93. 
Hadington, Viscount, Masque at 

the Marriage of, 65. 
Hot Anger Soon Cold, 3. 
Hue and Cry after Cupid, 64. 
Hymencei, 52, 53. 
Irish Masque, 85-86. 
The Isle of Dogs, i, 2, 5, 21. 
Love Freed from Ignorance and 

Polly, 73, 74, 75, 76, 78. 
Love Restored, 74. 
Lovers Made Men, 100. 
Loves Triumph through Callipolis, 

160. 
The Magnetic Lady, 153, 167, 177, 

179, 185, 186, 282, 431, 432, 444. 
Masques, see under each title. 
The May Lord, 115. 
Mercury Vindicated from the Al- 
chemists, 86, 87, 88. 



The Metamorphosed Gipsies, 121, 

263, 448. 
Moors, see Blackness. 
Mortimer His Fall, 167. 
Narcissus, the Fountain of Self- 

Love, 12. 
Neptune's Triumph, 131, 133, 263. 
The New Inn, 141, 144, 147, 149, 

151, 160, 196, 281, 282, 289, 433, 

435,440. 
News from the New World, 120, 121. 
Oberon, 74, 75. 
Ode to Himself, 143, 145, 147, 150, 

433- 
Page of Plymouth, 5. 
Pan's Anniversary, 263. 
Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue, 102, 

103, 107, 108. 
Poetaster, 12, 14, 29, 32, 33, 114, 

190, 315, 328, 379, 407, 425, 426, 
431, 432, 434, 444. 

The Poet to the Painter, 128. 

Queens, 68, 69, 70, 71, 285. 

Richard Crookback, 33. 

Robert II, King of Scots, 5. 

The Sad Shepherd, 167, 318. 

The Scots Tragedy, 5. 

Sejanus, 37, 44, 48, 49, 50, 51, 

52, 54, 57, 73, 97, ii5, I53, 163, 
171, 188, 191, 207, 235, 243, 249, 
267, 269, 276, 283, 285, 319, 326, 
341, 344, 345, 379, 381, 384, 402, 
405, 408, 428, 433. 

The Staple of News, 137, 138, 166, 
167, 264. 

A Tale of a Tub, 167, 176, 177, 188, 
282, 308, 356, 358. 

Time Vindicated to Himself and to 
his Honors, 129, 130, 263. 

Underwoods, 9, 128, 352, 379, 408. 

The Vision of Delight, 99. 

Volpone, 38, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 
73, 83, 123, 127, 134, 153, 189, 

191, 196, 226, 259, 267, 269, 278, 
292, 303, 304, 325, 326, 333, 345, 
358, 372, 378, 380, 383,402,405, 
407, 422, 433, 445, 449. 



INDEX 



461 



The Widow, 299, 320, 322, 326, 

435, 438. 
The Wits Academy, 308. 

Jonson Head, The Ben, 334, 373, 404. 

Jonson, Ben, Junior, 372, 439. 

Jonsonus Virbius, 202-256, 315, 440. 

Jordan, Thomas, London's Resurrec- 
iion, 333. 

Juby, Edward, 3. 

Just Italian, The, 157. 

K., W., 328. 

Kelyne, J., 328. 

Kemp, Edward, 186. 

Kempe, Will, 32. 

Killigrew, Thomas, 209, 336, 434; 
Claracilla, 320. 

Kindlemarsh, Francis, 8. 

King, Edward, 315. 

King, Henry, 214, 303. 

Kirkman, Francis, 300, 324; The 
Wits, or Sport upon Sport, 375. 

Knevet, Ralph (?), 172. 

Kyd, Thomas, 3, 8, 192; The Span- 
ish Tragedy, 14, 19, 21, 33. 

Kynder, Philip, The Surfeit, 313. 

Lacy, John, 355, 356, 358. 

Lady Alimony, 190. 

Lake, Sir Thomas, 68. 

Lambard, William, 316. 

Lando, Girolamo, 125. 

Langbaine, Gerard, 444; An Account of 
the English Dramatick Poets, 424- 
437; Momus Triiimphans, 418. 

Lapthorne, RicVard, 440. 

Laureat, The: Jack Squabb, 280. 

Lee, Nathaniel, 401; Caesar Borgia, 
399; Lucius Junius Brutus, 399. 

Legge, Thomas, 3. 

Leigh, Edward, A Treatise of Reli- 
gion and Learning, 309. 

Leland, John, 359. 

Lenton, Francis, The Young Gallants 
Whirligig, 141. 

L'Estrange, Sir Nicholas, Merry Pas- 
sages and Jests, 91, 140. 

Ling, W., 270. 

Lingua, 33. 

Lipsius, Justus, 280. 



Lisle, Sir George, 286. 

Locke, Henry, 8. 

Locke, Thomas, 120. 

Lodge, Thomas, 7. 

Love a la Mode, 328. 

Lovelace, Richard, 314, 315, 322. 

Loves and Adventures of Clerico and 

Lozia, 301. 
Love's Martyr, 13. 
Love's Mistery, 320. 
Lowin, John, 160, 179, 449. 
Luctus Britannici, 450. 
Lucy, George, 82. 
Lupo, Thomas, 77. 
Lydgate, John, 317. 
Lyly, John, 165. 
Lynn, George, 270. 
Machin, Lewis, Every Woman in her 

Humor, 54. 
Malvezzi, V., 315. 
Manningham, John, 33. 
Mariot, Richard, 298, 396. 
Markham, Gervaise, 8, 112. 
Markham, W., 258. 
Marlowe, Christopher, 3, 8, 165, 192, 

355> 434; Hero and Leander, 35, 

72, 192, 298, 434. 
Marmion, Shackerley, 237; A Fine 

Companion, 175, 186. 
Marriot, John, 126, 175. 
Marston, John, 6, 8, 13, 14, 29, 30, 

33> 50, 113, 114, 120, 165, 425; 

Eastward Hoe, 42, 43, 85, 86, 113, 

425, 438; The Malcontent, 38; 

Sophonisba, 54; What You Will, 

9, II. 
Martin, Richard, 90, 437. 
Martyn, John, 298, 396. 
Marvell, Andrew, Tom May's Death, 

399- 

Mascardus, Augustine, 281. 

Massinger, Philip, 120, 194, 195, 281, 
302, 309, 314, T^i, 340, 434, 445: 
The Emperor of the East, 168; A 
New Way to Pay Old Debts, 313. 

May, Thomas, 141, 170, 192, 199, 
217, 281, 314, 349, 399. 400; 
Pharsalia, 310. 



462 



INDEX 



Maynard, Sir John, 134. 

Mayne, Jasper, 209, 225, 298. 

Mead, Joseph, 122. 

Meade, Robert, 245. 

Mennes, Sir John, Musarum Deli- 
cice, 306-307, 382; Wit and Drol- 
lery, 324. 

Mercurius Aulicus, 281. 

Mercurius Britannicus, 276,279,281. 

Mercurius Civicus, 281. 

Meres, Francis, 165; Palladis Tamia, 

3- 
Meriton, Thomas, 434. 
Merry Devil of Edmonton, The, 326. 
Middleton, Christopher, 8. 
Middleton, Thomas, 112, 120, 140, 

166, 192, 310, 434, 436; More 

Dissemblers Besides Women, 131; 

The Widow, 299, 320, 322, 326, 

435- 438. 
Milton, John, 315, 423, 441; V Alle- 
gro, 168. 
Mirror for Magistrates, The, 3. 
Miscellany Poems and Translations, 

409. 
Mocket, Richard, 90. 
Molin, Nicolo, 39, 41. 
Montgomery, Earl of, see Philiji 

Herbert. 
More, John, 74. 
More, Sir Thomas, 72, 120. 
Morison, Sir Henry, 169, 170. 
Morley, Caleb, 136. 
Mosely, Humphrey, 273, 296, 318. 
Mountford, William, Greenivich-Park, 

421; The Injur' d Lovers, 418; 

King Edward III, 422. 
Motirneful Dittie Entitled Elizabeth's 

Losse, A, 36. 
Mucedorus, 54. 

Musarum Delicioe, 306-07, 382. 
Musarum Oxoniensium, 280. 
Nabbes, Thomas, Tottenham Court, 

176; The Unfortunate Mother, 268. 
Nashe, Thomas, 8, 120, 192; The 

Isle of Dogs, I, 2, 5, 21; Lenten 

Stufe, 5. 



Newcastle, Duchess of, see Margaret 
Cavendish. 

Newcastle, Duke of, see William 
Cavendish. 

None-Such Charles, The, 295, 356. 

Northampton, Earl of, see Henry 
Howard. 

Norton, Thomas, 8. 

Ogilby, John, 403. 

Oldham, John, 424, 431, 443; Horace 
His Art of Poetry Imitated, 402; 
Ode upon the Works of Ben Jonson^ 
387-395; ^ Satyr, 398; Satyrs 
upon the Jesuits, 395; Translation 
of Horace His Art of Poetry, 401. 

Oldys, William, Poetical Characleris- 
ticks, 92. 

Overbury, Sir Thomas, 33, 112, 314^ 

439- 

Owen, John, 308. 

Oxford, Edward, Earl of, see Edward 
De Vere. 

P., E., 203. 

Packer, John, 39. 

Painter, William, 128. 

Paiton, Edward, 317. 

Parker, Martin, The Poet's Blind- 
man's Bough, 273. 

Parnassus Biceps, 312. 

Parrott, Henry, Laquei Ridiculosi, 84- 

Parsons, Robert, 72. 

Pasquil's Mad-cap, 30, 79. 

Paulet, Sir William, Marquis of 
Winchester, 7. 

Pecke, Thomas, Parnassi Puerper- 
itim, 319. 

Peele, George, 3, 8. 

Pembroke, Countess of, see Mary- 
Herbert. 

Pembroke, Earl of, see Philip Her- 
bert. 

Pepys, Samuel, Diary, 321, 322, 327^ 
330, 333. 335- 338, 350. 

Philips, Mrs. Katherine, Poems, 404^ 

Phillips, Edward, Mysteries of Love 
and Eloquence, 316; The New 
World of English Words, 316; 
Theatrum Poetarum, 378; Tracta- 



INDEX 



463 



luliis de Carmine Dramatico Poeta- 

rum, 351. 
Phillips, John, Maronides, 375. 
Plume, Thomas, The Plume MSS., 

91, 92. 
Poems of Ben Jonson Junior, The, 

372- 
Poems 071 Affairs of State, 272, 406. 
Poeta de Tristibus, 403. 
Poeticall Recreations, 416. 
Pollard, Thomas, 449. 
Poole, Joshua, The English Parnassus, 

314- 
Porter, Endymion, 102, 187, 189, 198. 
Porter, Henry, 3; Hot Anger Soon 

Cold, 3. 
Porter, Thomas, The Carnival, 326. 
Pory, John, 53, 168, 172, 177. 
Powell, Edward, 288. 
Preston, Thomas, Cambises, 439. 
Price, Daniel, 141. 
Prior, Matthew, A Satyr on the 

Modern Translators, 406. 
Prujean, Thomas, Aurorata, 278. 
Pryce, John, 382. 
Prynne, William, 243, 274. 
Purchas, Samuel, 90. 
Purfoote, Thomas, 178. 
Puttenham, George, The Art of Eng- 
lish Poesie, 116. 
Quarles, Francis, 170, 308, 310, 314, 

315,321. 
R-, S., The Curtaine- Drawer of the 

World, 83. 
R-. T., 57. 
R., Th., 50. 
-Radcliffe, Alexander, The Sword's 

Farewell, 404. 
Raillerie a la Mode Consider d, 375. 
Rainsford, Sir H., 352. 
Raleigh, Sir Walter, 7, 114, 309, 357, 

358, 437- 
Ramsay, H., 245. 
Bamsey, William, The Gentleman' s 

Companion, 351. 
Randolph, Thomas, 143, 157, 172, 

189, 193, 242, 258, 268, 270, 283, 

^84, 294, 303, 304, 314, 321, 325, 



334, 340, 352, 413, 419, 431, 435, 
436, 443, 444; Amyntas, 284; Hey 
for Honesty, 295; The Jealous 
Lovers, 189, 268, 284; The Muses' 
Looking Glass, 268. 

Rawley, William, 387. 

Returne from Pernassus, The, 32. 

Richard Crookback, 33. 

Richards, William, The Christmas 
Ordinary, 319. 

Richome, Lewis, 285. 

Rives, Dr., 136. 

Robinson, Hugh, 136. 

Robinson, Richard, 449. 

Rochester, John Wilmot, Earl of, 386. 

Roe, Sir John, 36, 112. 

Roe, Sir Thomas, 50, 57. 

Rogers, John, 185. 

Roscommon, Earl of, see Wentworth 
Dillon. 

Rowe, Nicholas, 187. 

Rowley, William, 120, 340, 434; 
The Birth of Merlin, 436. 

Rump, 276. 

Rutter, Joseph, 233. 

Rymer, Thomas, 444, 448; Preface 
to translation of Rapin, 377; A 
Short View of Tragedy, 443; The 
Tragedies of the Last Age, 386. 

S., C, Sir, 373. 

S., E., 59. 

S., J., The Prince of Priggs Revels, 

295- 
Sackville, Charles, Earl of Dorset, 

Poems, 380. 
Sackville, Richard, Lord Buckhurst, 

211. 
Sackville, Thomas, I Earl of Dorset, 

3; Gorboduc, 18, 72, 443; Mirror 

for Magistrates, 72. 
Salisbury, Sir John, 13. 
Sandys, George, 170, 279, 281, 285, 

310, 314, 315, 317, 352. 
Scaliger, Joseph, 281. 
Scarron's Comical Romance, 384. 
Scory, Edward, 60. 
Scout, The, 281. 



464 



INDEX 



Scrope, Sir Carr, In Defence of Satyr, 
386. 

Sedley, Sir Charles, 373, 376; Antony 
and Cleopatra, '397; The Mulberry 
Garden, 397; The Wandering La- 
dies, 338. 

Selden, John, 89, 94, 102, 113, 136, 
225, 281, 316, 319, 349, 351, 437, 
438; Titles of Honor, 86, 165. 

Settle, Elkanah, Canity ses, 337. 

Shadwell, Thomas, 339, 403, 436, 441, 
444; Bury- Fair, 419; Epsom- 
Wells, 373, 436; The Humorists, 
360, 436; The Lancashire Witches, 
403; The Libertine Destroyed, 405; 
Psyche, 380; The Royal Shepherdess, 
349; The Squire of Alsatia, 419; 
The Sullen Lovers, 348; A True 
Widow, 397; The Virtuoso, 385; 
The Volunteers, 441. 

Shakespeare, William, 3, 8, 13, 32, 
33. 35. 36, 72, 83, 91, 92, 120, 141, 
165, 168, 175, 177, 187, 188, 189, 
192, 195, 225, 228, 235, 242, 246, 
248, 259, 263, 270, 273, 274, 276, 
278, 279, 281, 282, 283, 286, 287, 
292, 293, 294, 295, 298, 299, 300, 
301, 302, 304, 305, 307, 308, 309, 
312, 313, 314, 316, 317, 318, 321, 
322, 324, 325, 327, 328, 331, 332, 
333. 335. 337. 338, 339, 340, 342, 
343, 344, 347, 348, 35i. 358, 359, 
360, 366, 367, 368, 369, 370, 371, 
372, 2,72), 374, 375. 376, 377, 378, 
379, 380, 382, 384, 385, 386, 396, 
397, 398, 399. 401, 403. 404. 405. 
406, 407, 409, 410, 413, 415, 416, 
417, 418, 420, 421, 422, 423, 424, 
426, 427, 429, 431, 436, 437, 441, 
442, 443, 444, 445, 447, 448, 449, 
450; As You Like It, 6; The Com- 
edy of Errors, 418; Hamlet, 421, 
449; Henry IV, 189, 294, 304, 316, 
320, 326, 339, 348, 449; Henry IV, 
Part 2, 20; Henry V, 6; Julius 
Caesar, 188, 326, 371, 372, 380, 
386; Macbeth, 369, 401 ; The Merry 
Wives of Windsor, 20, 313, 320, 



326, 396; Much Ado About Nothing, 
6, 84, 189; Othello, 188, 295, 320, 
326, 386, 405, 406, 449; Pericles, 
151. 300, 406; The Rape of Lucrece, 
351; Richard II, 2; Richard III, 
2; Romeo and Juliet, 304; The 
Taming of the Shrew, 371; The 
Tempest, 337, 397; Titus Androni- 
cus, 326 ; Troilus and Cressida, 397 ; 
Twelfth Night, 189; The Two Noble 
Kinsmen, 273; Venus and Adonis, 

351- 

Shank, John, 311, 449. 

Shaw, Robert, i, 2, 3. 

Sheffield, John, Duke of Bucking- 
hamshire, Essays upon Poetry, 404. 

Sheppard, Samuel, Epigrams Theo- 
logical, 295; The Times Displayed, 
283. 

Sherburn, Edward, 99, 108. 

Shirley, James, 143, 279, 293, 298, 
302, 310, 321, 340, 352, 375, 384, 
424, 437, 445; The Cardinal, 301, 
326; The Example, 326; The 
Grateful Servant, 143, 301; Love's 
Cruelty, 166, 320; The Oppor- 
tunity, 326; Poems, 262; The 
Royal Master, 258; The Sisters, 
2'ji\.\ The Traitor, 320, 326, 380; The 
Wedding, 320. 

Sidney, Sir Philip, 7, 33, 120, 127, 
165, 274, 279, 280, 283, 309, 314, 
316, 324, 360, 429; The Arcadia, 
304. 

Singer, John, 2. 

Skelton, John, 137, 308. 

Smith, James, Musarum Delicice, 306, 
307, 382; Wit and Drollery, 324. 

Southwell, Robert, 72. 

Speake, George, 90. 

Speed, Samuel, Fragmenta Carceris, 
377- 

Spelman, Sir Henry, 316, 440. 

Spencer, Gabriel, i, 2, 3, 4, 5, 21. 

Spenser, Edmund, 7, 33, 99, 120, 127, 
165, 168, 273, 279, 281, 283, 292, 
304, 308, 309, 311, 315, 316, 317, 
331. 333. 339. 347. 35i. 352, 377, 



INDEX 



465 



378, 404. 406, 408, 416, 423, 443, 
445- 

Spilman, Sir Henry, 136. 

Stanley, Ferdinando, 5 Earl of Derby, 
7- 

Stanton, William, 296. 

Stapylton, Sir Robert, 296; The 
Slighted Maid, 328, 405. 

Stevenson, Matthew, Poems, 375. 

Storer, Thomas, 8. 

Stow, John, Annales, 86, 165; A 
Survey of London, 327. 

Strachey, William, 51. 

Stroad, William, see William Strode. 

Strode, William, 303. 

Suckling, Sir John, 187, 292, 293, 298, 
309, 321, 332, 334, 338, 340, 342, 
352, 359. 422, 425, 433, 438, 444; 
Aglaura,25g, 322, 332; Fragmenta 
Aurea, 274; The Sad One, 270, 273, 
318; A Session of the Poets, 196. 

Surrey, Earl of, see Henry Howard. 

Sutcliffe, Matthew (?), 66. 

Sutton, Christopher (?), 141. 

Sutton, Thomas, 358, 407. 

Swanston, Elliard, 449. 

Sykes, James, 441. 

Sylvester, Joshua, 8, 120, 127, 165, 
281, 310, 321. 

Synger, John, 2. 

Tate, Nahum, 409, 443; Commenda- 
tory Poem to The Sacrifice, 410; 
Cuckolds-Haven, 409; Loyal Gen- 
eral, 187. 

Tatham, John, 300, 314; The Fancies 
Theater, 270; London's Triinnphs, 
333- 

Taylor, John, 199, 267, 281, 298, 
334-335; Part of this Summer's 
Travels, 260; The» Penniless Pil- 
grimage, 109; The Praise of Hemp- 
seed, 120; The Sculler, 84. 

Taylor, Joseph, 86, 160, 179, 449. 

Tenison, Thomas, Baconiana, 387. 

Terrent, Thomas, 247. 

Tichborne, Arthur, 375. 

Times Whistle, The, 90, 187. 



Tomkins, John, 307; Albumazar, 
338, 346. 

Tottham, — (John Tatham ?), 314. 

Towers, W., 296. 

Towers, Williarn, 306. 

Townley, Zouch, 140, 141, 179, 266. 

Townsend, Aurelian, 33 (?), 168. 

Trundle, John, 178. 

Trussell, John, 193. 

Tubbe, Henry, 293. 

Tunstall, William, To Mr. Heyrick, 
422. 

Turnebus, Adrian, 280. 
Unfortunate Usurper, The, 328. 

Vaughan, Francis, 297. 

Vaughan, Henry, 289; Poems, 284. 

Vaughan, Sir John, 349, 367. 

Veel, Robert, New Court-Songs, 373. 

Venetian Ambassador, see Nicolo 
Molin, Zorzi Giustinian, Marc 
Antonio Correr, Antonio Foscarini, 
Girolamo Lando. 

Vere, Edward De, 17 Earl of Ox- 
ford, 7. 

Vernon, John, 223. 

Villiers, George, Duke of Bucking- 
ham, The Rehearsal, 2,72. 

Vindex Anglicus, 279. 

Vossius, Conradus, 281. 

W., G., 258. 

W., S., 316. 

Walker, Sir Edward, 198, 

Waller, Edmund, 209, 221, 315, 317, 
334. 352, 373. 404, 422, 423, 443; 
To Mr. Creech, 404. 

Walton, Isaac, 357. 

Ward, John, Diary, 324. 

Waring, Robert, 250, 296; Amoris 
Effigies, 330, 440. 

Warner, William, 165; Albion's Eng- 
land, 35. 

Washbourne, Thomas, Divine Poems, 
306. 

Watkyns, Rowland, Poems without 
Fictions, 325. 

Watson, , 359. 

Watson, Thomas, 3, 7, 192. 



31 



466 



INDEX 



Webbe, Joseph, Entheatus Materialis, 

142. 
Webster, John, 166, 192, 309, 436; 

The White Devil, 83, 322, 326. 
Weever, John, Epigrammes in the 

Oldest Cut, 6. 
Wentworth, Dillon, 4 Earl of Ros- 
common, 401 
West, Richard, 242, 270. 
Westmorland, Earl of, see Mildmay 

Fane. 
Wheeler, Edmund, Carmen Lauda- 

torium, 377. 
Whetstone, George, 8. 
Whipper of the Satire, The, 30. 
Whitlock, Richard ZQOTOMIA 306. 
Whyte, Rowland, 64. 
Wilde, Robert, 333; The Benefice, 

294; Poems, 312. 
Willford, Thomas, Hyemall Pastimes, 

199. 
Wilmot, John, Earl of Rochester, 

Poems, 386. 
Wilmot, Robert, 8. 
Wilson, John, Belphegor, 420; The 

Cheats, 325, 331; The Projectors, 

331- 
Winchester, Sir William, Marquis 

of, 7. 



Winstanley, William, 444; England's 

Worthies, 406; Lives, 411. 
Winwood, Sir Ralph, 39, 40. 
Wisdom, Robert, 66. 
Wisdom of Doctor Doddipol, The, 28. 
Wit for Money: or Poet Stutter, 424. 
Wither, George, 120, 130, 166, 274, 

281, 308, 310, 314; Abuses Stript 

and Whipt, 127; Faire- Virtue, 127. 
Wit Restored in Several Select Poems 

not Formerly Published, 198. 
Wits Academy, The, 308. 
Wit's Recreations, 271, 272. 
Wood, Anthony a, 354, 357, 358, 386, 

431, 444; AthencB Oxonienses, 126, 

180, 437-440- 
Wortley, Sir Francis, 247. 
Wotton, Sir Henry, 72, 102. 
Wotton, William, Reflections upon 

Ancient ayid Modern Learning, 443. 
Wright, Benjamin, 198. 
Wright, James, Country Conversa- 
tions, 445; Historia Histrionica, 

448. 
Wright, John, Thyestes, 377. 
Wyatt, Sir Thomas, 72. 
Wycherley, William, The Plain 

Dealer, 443. 
Wyclif, John, 441. 
Young, Sir John, 439. 



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